


Razor's Edge (Breathe 1)

by colorguard28



Series: Breathe [1]
Category: NCIS
Genre: Child Abuse, M/M, McGee family, Plague
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-09-14
Updated: 2012-10-14
Packaged: 2017-11-14 05:52:42
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 51
Words: 113,095
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/512009
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/colorguard28/pseuds/colorguard28
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Two teammates come together after Ziva stays in Israel. Now they must survive her return, their own demons and well-intentioned meddling by teammates. First in the Breathe universe. Voted 2010 NCIS Award winner for best Tony/McGee. NOT explicit.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: The characters are property of DPB and CBS and no money is being made off their use.
> 
> AN: I'm a huge McAbby/Tibbs fan, but a combination of a Michael Weatherly comment in an interview and the spoilers for Guilty Pleasure a few months before it aired got the plot bunnies hopping in a McNozzo direction. While it is slash, it's not explicit. Just a tale of people, with all their flaws, trying to navigate the craziness of life even as the universe is throwing everything in their path. And for the SWAK fans, keep an eye out for everybody's favorite doctor - the one who majored in medicine, not journalism. ;) (Yes, he did major in journalism, at my alma mater. He's two credits shy of his degree, but I don't think he really cares.)

**Prologue**

_"Two roads diverged in a wood, and I -- I took the one less traveled by, And that has made all the difference." -- Robert Frost_

Gibbs was going to kill him in the morning, and all he could think of was Robert Frost.

Tim McGee stared at his typewriter and scrubbed his face with the heels of his hands. It wasn't supposed to be this complicated. Three years ago, he wouldn't have hesitated to say "yes." A year ago, he would have found it easy to say "no." But everything had shifted during the past few months and now he didn't know what to do.

Three years ago, all Abby would have had to do was say the word and he would have been with her. In her coffin, by her side and in her heart. He cherished the time they had spent together from the time they first met until his first anniversary with the team. His dark angel, the mistress of the night who loved to hear him talk geek and looked beyond the stuttering rookie Gibbs could frighten with a look.

Gibbs had ended it between them. Not that he stole Abby — far from it. But once Kate mentioned Rule 12 to him, Tim knew that he had to end it before Gibbs killed him.

****

****Flashback****

_"Hey, Tim?" Kate caught him by the vending machines after a long day bringing in the singer who killed her sister._

_"Yes, Kate?" he replied._

_"You know, it's a good thing Gibbs was so busy trying to figure out whether Willie was a victim or suspect that he didn't catch you breaking Rule 12." Kate crossed her arms and looked at him, her face expressionless._

_"Rule 12?"_

_"You think we didn't catch what Abby said in the lab the other day?" Kate shook her head as she sat on the edge of the break room table. "I'm surprised DiNozzo hasn't made a point of giving you grief in front of Gibbs."_

_"Wh- Wh- What do you mean?" Tim could feel the tips of his ears getting hot._

_"You never disappoint her? I love Abby, she's one of my best friends, but she's pretty wild and crazy when it comes to the bedroom. You know DiNozzo's not going to just let that slide, and once he says something, Gibbs will invoke Rule 12."_

_"Rule 12?" Tim knew he sounded like a broken record. "I know Rule 1 is don't screw over your partner, Rule 2 is always wear gloves at a crime scene and Rule 3 is never be unreachable. 9 is always carry a knife and 13 is never let lawyers get involved. But I missed 12."_

_"Rule 12. Never date a co-worker." Kate smiled. "He taught me that one before I even joined NCIS."_

_"But, but..."_

_"He's not going to like it when he realizes you and Abby are still seeing each other."_

_"But he knows. I mean, he's the one who asked if I'd slept in the coffin, back when I was up here trying to identify Ari." Tim frowned. "He didn't say anything then."_

_"You weren't working here then," Kate said. "You are now." She shook her head. "When he finds out, he's not going to let it slide." She stood and turned to go, then looked back." Which would you rather have, a spot on Gibbs' team or Abby?"_

Tim had to think about that at the time. He'd worked like crazy to earn a spot on Gibbs' team and he couldn't imagine not being part of the MCRT. But Abby also was somebody he could see spending the rest of his life with. And then he'd thought back to the week before Gibbs had asked about the coffin, the Sunday at the coffeehouse that led to his first fight with Abby. He'd blushed and stammered and stuttered and made a fool out of himself telling her his feelings, and all she had said was "Thanks."

They'd straightened it out, but Tim always knew he was more into Abby that she was into him. And so he'd ended it, not wanting to give Gibbs a reason to ship him back to Norfolk. After while, he got used to being Abby's friend. There even were times when he wished she didn't have such a hold on him. Who else could get him to adopt the dog who had tried to kill him just days earlier? He couldn't imagine life without Jethro now, but Abby couldn't have known that at the time. She didn't know how much he enjoyed quiet weekends at home with his lover, Jethro curled on the floor at their feet, or sometimes stretched across both laps, a warm fur blanket on cold days.

That was the sticking point. Abby didn't know. She made that clear when she asked him yesterday to come back. She didn't know that "her geek" was now somebody else's geek. She didn't know whose cellphone rested beside his on the nightstand in his bedroom. She didn't know Tim had found somebody else during those long, empty days when Ziva was missing in Somalia. And she definitely didn't know Tim had decided Rule 12 was the only one of Gibbs' rules that he would break. She thought he would, or she wouldn't have asked him to restart their relationship. But she thought he would only break it for her.

When he told her the truth, she wasn't going to take it well. Or quietly. And she was Gibbs' favorite.

"Are you coming to bed?" Tim's lover's voice floated into the room. Tim hadn't said anything about Abby's request, wanting to figure out how to handle it on his own.

"I'll be there in a minute," he replied. "I'm just ... thinking."

"I know." The sleepy voice was in the doorway now. "I can almost smell the smoke from the spinning gears in your brain, McGenius."

Tim smiled at the nickname. The long, long list had started out as a way of hazing him, but now when Tony called him Mc- anything, affection filled his voice. It was a way they connected when they were at work and couldn't rely on their usual methods. Tim pushed his chair back and decided to go to bed and deal with it in the morning.


	2. Chapter 1

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is obviously set in season 7, and the prologue is about halfway through the story. We're jumping back to see how they got to that point. Also, this is a completed story that I'm finally moving over here, so chapter should go up fairly quickly.

**June 2009**

Tim rolled his eyes as he switched his button-down and blazer for a T-shirt and casual jacket. Tony just assumed that he would be willing to fix the problems with his TV in exchange for a movie. He'd retorted with the comment about money for services rendered to hide the fact that yeah, a movie night with Tony would suit him just fine. Not that they had the same thing in mind for a movie night.

Tony would settle in with pizza and a beer and keep up a running commentary on the movie. Tim never did figure out how the older man could keep so much movie trivia in his head when he talked his way through watching the actual movie. His idea of watching movies with Tony was a completely different scene. Sprawled on the couch, cuddled together, just the two of them. The movie wouldn't matter, just the closeness. Kate told him once that Abby had made some snarky comment about not wanting to spend rainy Sundays watching "Sleepless in Seattle" back when they were dating. He'd winced, knowing that while her choice of movie might be off, Abby wasn't wrong about what he wanted. Rocking the coffin, the nights bowling with the nuns, the clubbing were all great, but they weren't everything. Tim also wanted relaxed afternoons, gentle affection and somebody who was content to just be there quietly together. Abby had affection to spare, and wasn't shy about sharing it. But the mailroom guys called her Energizer Abby for a reason.

When he'd first met the team, Tony had seemed much the same way, hyperactive and gregarious. But that was more than five years ago and a lot had happened. Gibbs had left, putting Tony in charge. Gibbs came back, expecting things to be the same as though he hadn't left for four months. Tony had lost his heart to Jeanne, beaten himself up over Jenny's death and spent four long months as Agent Afloat. Tim had changed, too. He'd joined the team, killed a cop, lied to Gibbs to save his sister. He'd talked his way out of a prison riot and created a best-selling alter ago. He'd confessed his love for Abby in front of the team to save her from his crazed fan, then felt his heart shatter when she insisted it would never work. He'd watched Tony almost died of the plague, helped him scour the rooftops in the rain just a few weeks later as they alternately grieved for Kate and cursed Ari. Tony had mocked his fear of heights; he'd put it aside to pull his partner up after the killer sent him over the edge in the parking garage. When Tony had said "I love you, McGee," Tim had wanted to put an arm around him and repeat the words back, but he knew it was the adrenaline talking, not Tony's heart.

Tim forced his thoughts away from the past and grabbed his tool kit from his workbench. It was just a movie night, maybe with pizza. Tony was just a friend and co-worker, nothing more. Enough time had passed that they were sure Ziva wasn't coming back, but that didn't mean Tony had changed his preference from petite brunettes to tall, gangly, blonde geeks.

He checked to make sure Jethro had enough food and water, then left his apartment.

When he arrived at Tony's apartment, his friend was just paying the pizza delivery guy.

"Nice timing, McGoo," Tony said. Come on in, grab a slice and a beer and eat while it's hot."

"Thanks, Tony," Tim replied. "I didn't expect to get pizza out of this."

"It's a Friday night," Tony replied. "Pizza, beer, a movie once you get the TV working. What else did you expect?"

"You to be nagging at me to hurry up so you could head out clubbing," Tim retorted as he pulled a couple slices onto a paper plate. "Where did you say the beer was?"

"Fridge, in the door. Dark on the left, light on the right."

When Tim walked back into the living room, he could feel the tips of his ears heating. Tony was sprawled in the middle of the couch, and with Tim's long legs there was no place to sit that wouldn't have them almost touching. He opted for the left side, figuring his knee brushing Tony's leg would be less distracting than the entire length of his thigh. He settled down, forcing himself to relax. "So what did you say the colors are doing again?" he asked, trying to keep his mind centered on a safe topic.

"Like I said, the reds are eggplant, the colors are just completely off." Tony took a bite and pulled the slice away, cheese stretching from his mouth to the slice. The older man scooped it up with his tongue, and Tim shifted slightly, hoping his bent leg and plate of pizza were hiding his reaction to the sight of Tony's agile tongue.

"Umm... It's probably the cables, but I brought a set of my own to make sure." Tim forced his eyes away. "I'll get to it as soon as I finish this slice."

"No rush," Tony said, flashing a big grin. "Like I said, just you, me, pizza and a movie tonight. And I've never known you to put a movie above pizza."

"No, a movie... a movie sounds good." Tim felt as speechless as he had the first time he talked to Abby on the phone, the day he met Tony and the others. "Which movie?"

"Which one would you like to see?" Tony's voice was casual, but lower, slower than normal.

"I thought you had one all picked out? 'Black Rock' something or other."

"McGoo, you wound me. 'Bad Day at Black Rock.' Spencer Tracey, a classic." Tony stretched his arm across the back of the sofa. "You have got some serious catching up to do on your knowledge of classic movies that don't involve spaceships."

"Yeah, yeah," Tim muttered. "So what's this movie about and why are we watching it?"

"You don't want to watch it?" Tony said. "Pick another one. DiNozzo's rule number 4, always let the date pick the movie."

Tim snorted. "Come off it, Tony. What is this, now that Ziva's gone, you just switch your flirting over to me? First Kate, then Paula, then four years of dancing around Ziva."

"Three years, McSnoopy. I didn't flirt when I was with Jeanne." Tony's eyes dropped to the floor.

Tim massaged his forehead with the fingers of one hand. "Three years, then. No wonder you told Gibbs the new teammate had to be a woman - you need somebody to flirt with, and god knows I'm not your type."

"Actually..." Tony's voice trailed off.

Tim looked over to see Tony's eyes closed as his teeth worried his lower lip.

"Tony?" Silence. "Look, Tony I'm sorry. That was a low blow. I know you and Ziva--"

"No, McClueless, you don't know." Tony cut him off. "Looks like my mask worked. You only saw what I wanted you to see. What I wanted Gibbs to see." A faint blush stained his cheekbones. "Ziva and I were never more than partners. We had each others' six. When I went to her apartment, when Rivken and I had that fight..."

"You were trying to protect your partner?" Tim snorted. "Sure, Tony. I saw how you hated Rivken. Nobody gets that upset about a friend *or* a partner. You went after Rivken because he thought he was threatening the woman you love." Even as he said the words, his heart felt heavier. Everybody had been dancing around this for too long without saying anything to Tony. Not Gibbs, not Ducky, not Palmer. Not even Abby, who was incapable of holding back when she had something to say.

"No, Tim."

Tim looked over at his partner at the rare use of his first name. "No, you weren't trying to protect Ziva?" He looked Tony in the eye and raised one eyebrow. "I'm not a clueless probie anymore, DiNozzo. I know we all have each others' backs no matter what. You've had my back a lot of times. Coming with me to Autopsy to see Kate. Distracting me after I killed Benedict. But this wasn't that. This was personal."

"Yes. It was personal. I was trying to protect my partner, the partner I trust to have my six. The one who could have been killed in L.A. because Rivken was running an op that Ziva didn't tell us about." Green eyes bored into Tim's skull. "I was after Rivken because I wanted him gone before something else happened and you got hurt. I wasn't trying to protect the woman I love. I was trying to protect the man I love."


	3. Chapter 2

Tim couldn't look away. He dampened his lips with his tongue, and was rewarded as Tony's eyes seemed to gleam, the intensity creating an almost physical connection between the two men. They watched each other, neither moving.

The seconds ticked away. Keeping his eyes locked on Tony, Tim reached his hand to cup the other man's neck, pulling him until they were nose to nose. Their breath mingled as time seemed to stop.

Tim tilted his head slightly, pulling Tony in for a kiss. His tongue pressed against Tony's lips, demanding entrance. Tony's lips parted, letting him deepen the kiss. But when Tim slipped his other hand under Tony's shirt to caress his back, Tony pulled away.

The men stared at each other, chests heaving.

"Why?" Tim asked, frustration lacing his breath.

"Why what? Why you? Why stop? Why now?" Tony grinned and Tim could almost see the mask slip back into place.

"Come off it, Tony," he retorted. "You started it. You're not backing off now."

Tony's eyes dropped. "Not backing off. Just ... not ready for where that was heading. God, we're about to break Rule 12. Not that you haven't before, but that's one rule I haven't broken and I'm trying to wrap my mind around keeping this separate from work. You've broken it, which means Abby's broken it, Kate broke it when she was Secret Service, Jimmy's broken it. For all the rules of Gibbs' I've bent over the years, that wasn't one of them."

Tim nodded. "You know, I never intentionally broke Rule 12."

Tony raised his eyebrows.

Tim chuckled. "Once Kate mentioned it to me, I called it off with Abby. I didn't want to give Gibbs an excuse to ship me back to Norfolk."

"Yet you're asking me why we're not going further than a kiss."

Tim shrugged. "That was before I knew Gibbs had broken Rule 12 with the director, and before I was sure enough of my place on the team. Gibbs fought hard enough to get us back after Vance broke up the team. And it's not an NCIS rule, just a Gibbs rule, so Vance can't do anything about it. We're civilians, so DADT doesn't apply, and it's going to get repealed in the next year or two anyway."

Tony nodded. "Gibbs wouldn't boot both of us off the team, not when we're all the team he's got left. Abby, Jimmy and Ducky have told me enough about the B team Gibbs had for a while. And I think his concern is that it would affect us at work. If we keep everything normal at work, then even if he finds out, we can prove that it doesn't affect the office."

"If he finds out? C'mon, this is Gibbs we're talking about. Our fearless leader."

"OK, when he finds out."

Tony wrapped an arm around his shoulders and pulled him close. "Your McGenius brain has all the angles figured out, doesn't it? We just have to make sure we keep this separate from the agency. Another reason we need to back off, make sure we don't slip over the edge without realizing it."

"So we move slowly?" Tim looked over at Tony. "You OK with that?"

Tony nodded. "You know, back with... with Jeanne..."

He paused, and Tim put a hand on his shoulder, offering silent encouragement.

"I held off with Jeanne, hoping I wasn't going to have to go that far," Tony said quietly. "When she asked why, I couldn't tell her the real reason. So I made up a reason, told her that I was waiting because I wanted something different. I told her, 'if you always do what you've always done, you'll always get what you've always gotten.' Somewhere along the way, I realized I might have made it up, but it was the truth. Not that breaking Rule 12 is something I've ever done, but moving quickly is."

Tim snorted. "Like I couldn't tell from all your tales in the office."

"My tales?" Tony laughed. "You blew my mind with that kiss and you're giving me grief? I'm beginning to understand why Abby said you never disappoint her."

Tim flushed. "I can't believe you remember that. It was what, five years ago?"

"Oh, I remember. You know, if it wasn't for Abby, we wouldn't be having this conversation right now." When Tim just looked at him, eyes widening at the implication, Tony rushed on. "No, I didn't tell the mistress of the dark I have a thing for you."

Tim couldn't hold back his sigh of relief, sinking back into the couch cushion against Tony. "Thank god. You know Abby. She finds out and she's going to want details. Hell, she'll want to watch."

This time it was Tony's turn to blush. "She would, wouldn't she. No offense, Tim..." He stopped as Tim started laughing. "What's so funny?" Tony looked down, away from Tim.

"I'm just not used to you calling me Tim," he replied, rubbing one hand along the other man's shoulder. "McGee, McGeek, Probie, yes. But not Tim. I like it, but it's just odd."

Tony leaned over and placed a light kiss on his lips. "You're always Tim to me," he said. "It's just, when I think of you as Tim, I think of this, of us, or at least the us I could imagine. I can't call you that at work. I get ... distracted. Gibbs would be head-slapping me every other minute. The nicknames, they're just easier."

Tim rolled his eyes before pulling Tony in for a kiss. "I can live with that," he said. "You can call me whatever you like at work, as long as it's Tim at home."

"Whatever I want?" Tony's eyes lit up. "Oh, I can have fun with this. Let's see..."

Tim did the only thing he could think to shut Tony up. He kissed him, taking them deep quickly. This time it was Tony's hands working their way under his shirt and Tim who pulled away. "OK, I need to go," Tim said. "Because if I don't go now, this whole idea of taking it slow is going to be shot to hell."

Tony pulled back and made a point of scooting to the other side of the sofa. "That's what I was talking about earlier."

"Huh?"

"Abby."

"Tony."

"I was surprised when you and Abby started seeing each other. I figured she was your walk on the wild side, but I wasn't sure what she saw in it. No offense, but you were pretty geeky back then, shy, stammering."

"Tony, are you trying to start our first fight?"

"No!" He reached out and grabbed Tim's hand. "I'm just... After Abby made that comment about you not disappointing her, I was curious. Abby's not shy about sex. Hell, she even asked Gibbs one time if he had any fetishes. So when I realized you obviously weren't what you appeared on the surface, I got curious."

"You've been thinking about me that way for five years?" Tim felt his face turn red. "Before Paula, before Jeanne?"

Tony shrugged. "Yes and no. I just ... watched. Just another investigation. I realized that I always thought of you as awkward and geeky because the areas you stumble are the ones I'm strong in. But when you get into the computers and science, you're like SuperAgent while I bang my forehead enough to leave marks. That's when I started wondering if I was looking the wrong way. I figured that if you stammered talking to Gibbs, you'd do the same talking with women. Except you and Abby talk like your brains are connected. And if you could be that comfortable, maybe you were channeling that focus, that intensity you have when you're making computers accomplish the miracles Gibbs expects." A flush dusted his cheekbones. "After Jeanne, I started thinking that way more. Wondering what it would be like to have that intensity directed toward me."

Tim sucked in a deep breath. "You've been thinking about this for almost two years?"

Tony nodded. "At first it was just something to take my mind off Jeanne, something completely different. Then after you pulled me up when I was hanging over the edge of the parking garage, I realized I hadn't thought of Jeanne in a long time. I was just thinking of you for you. That's when I got scared."

"You were scared of me?"

"That focus, that intensity? Damn right I was scared." Tony paused. "I wasn't kidding earlier when I talked about my masks. There's a lot you don't know about me, a lot I'm not ready to share. Not with Gibbs, not with you, not with Abby. Not even with Ducky. But I know how your big McGeek brain works. You can't help putting puzzle pieces together. That's why Gibbs added you to the team. The computer skills were just a bonus. I was afraid that if I said anything, even if you were interested, that you would dig too deeply. You wouldn't mean to, you would never intentionally hurt somebody you are about. But it wouldn't take much to crack some of my walls, and I'm not sure you'll like what you find."

Tim placed a finger on Tony's lips to stop him. "I already know you're not the goofy frat boy you'd like us to think you are. You're not the only one who's been watching and learning for years. I don't know what you think you're hiding, but I know what kind of man you are. What happened in the past, whoever you think you're hiding behind a mask, they don't matter. You make fun of those audio CDs I listen to, but there's one saying I think applies. 'Be careful of your thoughts, for they become words. Be careful of your words, for they become actions. Be careful of your actions, for they become habits. Be careful of your habits, for they become your character.' I know the man I work with, the one who has my six and has always had my six. The one who risks his life to keep us safe, who Gibbs trusts to be his senior field agent. Whatever happened, what ever your family did to you that you think nobody can understand, it won't change my opinion of you. It won't change how I feel."

Silence settled in the room after Tim spoke. He slid his hand down to capture Tony's, gripping it firmly.

"You're sure?" Tony's voice was barely audible.

Tim nodded and pulled the other man into a hug. "I'm sure." He pulled back. "Look, I still need to leave before I start trying to convince you to let me stay. Why don't you come over tomorrow afternoon. We can take Jethro for a run, wear him out at the dog park, then have a picnic. Just a chance to get to know each other better, have a date that doesn't put us anywhere near a bedroom or couch."

Tony smiled, one that Tim recognized as genuine happiness. "It's a date. Just you, me and McMutt."


	4. Chapter 3

The next afternoon, the men met at Tim's, then headed to the dog park, Jethro trotting along beside them.

"I brought my car and a cooler over to the park earlier," Tim said. "All we have to do is wear Jethro out so he'll let us eat in peace."

"Oh, is that all," Tony said.

"Two miles to the park, then we throw things for him to chase for a while." Tim fell into the rhythm Tony set as they jogged along, Jethro at his side on the leash. "We did five miles this morning, so he's already had a workout today. He doesn't usually come on my morning runs, so he'll probably be just as happy to ride back in the car."

"He's not the only one," Tony said between breaths. "How many miles are you running each week?"

Tim shrugged. "Five miles before work, then the four miles for the dog park three or four times a week. Usually 45 or 50 total."

"It's paying off," Tony said. "Next time we run down a suspect in cold weather, he's all yours."

Tim looked over. "Lungs still bothering you from the plague?"

"Some," Tony said. "Cold weather mostly, or runs longer than four or five miles. Brad said that's to be expected. At least as much as you can expect anything from a disease from medieval times."

"I have to hand it to you, life with you is never boring." Tim said.

"That's why you love me," Tony retorted, then faltered.

Tim looked over, and smiled. "Yeah, that's why I love you," he said, relieved when Tony fell back into the comfortable rhythm of jogging.

An hour later, Jethro curled up under the oak tree, gnawing on the rawhide chew Tim tossed him. "That will keep him busy for a while," Tim said, stretching out on the blanket Tony had spread on the grass. He opened the cooler. "Ham and Swiss or roast beef?"

"Surprise me," Tony said. He lay on his back, eyes closed. Patches of sunlight that filtered through the leafy canopy danced across his face. Tim realized how much younger Tony looked when he was relaxed. A smile curved his lips as he leaned over and brushed Tony's lips with a kiss. As he pulled away Tony's eyes opened.

"Mmmm." He smiled back, a soft, small smile different from the big grins he routinely sported at work. "I like that option." He propped himself up on an elbow and kissed Tim back. "Still, we'd better not. Never know who could walk by." His emerald eyes met Tim's sea glass ones. "Rain check?"

Tim nodded. "Absolutely." He pulled back and handed Tony a sandwich, rolling into a sitting position. Tony arched his spine, setting off firecrackers of sound as the long column unkinked, before tucking his legs under him and sitting up.

"This is nice," Tony said. "I've got a couple of parks near me, but none this peaceful."

"Most of the playing fields are on the other side of town, so that's where the families with kids hang out." Tim paused to grab some strawberries from the tub he'd put in the cooler. "That's one reason I like this park. Not that Jethro can't handle being around kids, but it makes it tough to do any kind of running when everybody wants to pet him."

Tony grinned. "Does he bark at them the way his namesake does?"

Tim snorted. "No, and he doesn't smack them with his paw either." Tim polished off his sandwich and lay down on the grass. "You know, I get fan mail from time to time telling me that L.J. Tibbs is completely unrealistic, nobody would be able to get away with all the stuff he does."

"If only they knew." Tony laughed. "I thought Tibbs was a little softer than Gibbs, myself. Not that I'd tell him that." Tony stretched out and crossed his legs at the ankles, hands stacked under his head. "So how is Sarah, anyway?"

"Good. She's working in Baltimore this summer, living with our parents. She's been doing some writing, but she won't show it to me."

"Does that bother you?"

Tim shook his head. "I didn't show 'Deep Six' to anybody until it hit bookstores. It's kind of terrifying showing other people what you write."

"More terrifying than riding in a car with Gibbs driving?"

Tim thought about it for a minute. "More than Gibbs, less than Ziva. At least you know you're going to survive, even if your ego gets a little bruised."

"Yes, our crazy ninja chick does have quite the death wish when she gets behind the wheel." Tony sighed. "Is this going to be Sarah's last year at Weatherly?"

Tim noticed the change of subject, but didn't comment. They needed to keep this light, keep it fun. "She's trying to decide what to do after she graduates. There aren't exactly a lot of English professor jobs out there, so she's not sure about grad school. She was talking about getting a master's in writing, but then the next minute she says she's just going to find a job waitressing or something to pay the bills and focus on writing." He shrugged. "She'll make it work, whatever she chooses. I'd like it if she stayed in D.C., though. Not that my parents are that far away, but it's still nice having family in town."

"Yeah." Tony was quiet for a minute. "What's your family going to think if they find out about us?"

"They'll be happy, as long as we're happy." Tim smiled. "Mom's brother and his partner have been together even longer than my parents. They've got two teenagers they adopted, and they got legally married in Massachusetts as soon as it was available. My dad might be military, but he doesn't have a problem with whether I date men or women."

"That's good to know," Tony said. "I kind of wondered. Have they met any of your boyfriends before? Heck, have you had any boyfriends before?"

Tim looked over at him. "They haven't met any guys I've seen. None of them made it that long, and I haven't walked down that path since college. Seemed like a bad idea stationed on a Navy base. The only person I've dated that they met was Abby, and not until after we stopped dating. She and Sarah got to be friends after Abby saved her from the murder charge."

Tony nodded. "I can see that. Did she talk Sarah into getting a tat the way she did Kate?"

Tim squeezed his eyes shut. "You know, there's some things about my sister I don't need or want to know. If she has one, it isn't any place I've seen. And if she's got one someplace I haven't seen, I really don't want to know."

Tony laughed. "TMI about the baby sis, huh."

"I can still picture her with pigtails and scraped knees from climbing trees," Tim retorted. "Just because I know she's not a kid any more doesn't mean I want to dwell on it."

"So she and Abby hit it off?" Tony said. "That could make things ... interesting."

"Good point. I don't want to ask her to keep it a secret, but you know what will happen if Abs finds out."

"You mean after she asks to watch?"

"Yeah. You know there's no way she could keep it a secret. She doesn't think Rule 12 is a big deal, so we couldn't even rely on that to keep her quiet."

Tony shrugs. "So we don't tell her. I mean, as long as you don't mind keeping this quiet from your family."

Tim thought about it for a while. "No, we're good. It's not like they're going to notice if I don't mention who I'm dating. I don't usually. They're used to hearing about stuff we all do together inside and outside work, so it's not like I can't mention you at all. What about your family?"

"Well, my mother's dead. My father didn't even bother to come by when I had the plague. I'm not even sure I've met the latest step-mother. You guys are my family. Abby's my younger sister, Gibbs is Papa Smurf, Ducky's the grandfather I never had. Jimmy's the weird cousin."

"OK, that makes what we're doing sound a little weird," Tim said. "I know what you mean, though."

"They're my family," Tony said. "But since you were already seeing Abby when you joined the team, I think you get some sort of dispensation for being adopted family. Think Greg and Marsha in the Brady Bunch. Not that they did, but I could so totally see it."

Tim started laughing so hard he had to wrap his arms around his belly. "Tony, you never change. Kate was right, you really are an X-rated Peter Pan."


	5. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is the last pre-ToC chapter. From here on out, we'll be seeing how things evolve after they get back from rescuing Ziva. And before you can ask, yes sometime during those couple of months, they stop taking it slow. That's a different story in this series...

Tim stopped at the coffee shop on his way to the Navy Yard on Monday to pick up three cups. He wanted to give Tony the extra treat, and aiding and abetting Gibbs' caffeine addiction was never a bad idea.

As usual, he was both 30 minutes early and the last member of the MCRT to arrive. Gibbs wasn't at his desk, but his coffee cup was.

"Morning, Tony," Tim said, setting Gibbs' coffee down before bringing over the cup of light, sweet hazelnut. "Boss in MTAC?"

"Down visiting Abby, I think," Tony replied, smiling softly. "Thanks for the coffee, McGoo."

"If we're going to spend the day looking through all these personnel folders, I figured we needed something," Tim replied.

"So how do you want to divide this up?" Tony grinned. "I can take the pretty ones." He winked at Tim, who had to bite back a chuckle.

"DiNozzo." Gibbs delivered the head smack without even breaking stride.

"Right, boss. Sorry, boss."

Tim just shook his head, fighting to keep the smile off his lips. "Let's just divide it in half." He walked over and lifted the top of the stack from the senior field agent's desk. "So what are we looking for?"

"Somebody who won't cry when Gibbs is his usual 'second B is for bastard self,'" Tony said quietly. "Less uptight than Kate, less deadly than Ziva."

"I don't think we don't have to worry about either of those," Tim replied just as quietly before raising his voice to conversational level. "Let's figure out what we don't need. You've got the people skills. I've got the computer skills. Let's look for agents who have different skill sets and see where that gets us."

"Yeah, one McGeek's all Gibbs can handle." Tony grinned.

"And one DiNozzo is all I can handle," Tim retorted, lips twitching as he tried not to smile.

"If you two don't get to work, one Gibbs will be more than either of you can handle."

"On it, Boss." they chorused, Tim scooting back behind his desk, folders in hand.

By lunchtime, Tim was wishing Gibbs would get the bat signal. Reading inch-thick personnel files was making his eyes bleed. He'd tried looking away for a few minutes to give his eyes a break, but as soon as his gaze fell on Tony, he had to fight to keep his face from heating as he thought about their weekend together.

They'd spent most of Saturday afternoon at the park, just laughing and talking, finding a new level in their usual banter. Somewhere in there, Tony discovered Tim was ticklish. He'd snuck a hand under Tim's T-shirt, finding the sensitive spots along his ribs. Next thing they knew, they were wrestling on the blanket, Tim squirming away from Tony's fingers as Tony tried to pin him down. Somewhere along the line, the tickling changed to kissing, Tony's body stretched on top of his, pressed close enough that Tim knew the older man was enjoying it as much as he was. Tim rolled him over, grinding against him as Tony's hands worked his shirt up. Both men were in danger of forgetting their plan to take it slowly when Jethro reminded them they weren't along, planting his cold, wet nose on Tim's back where the shirt had ridden up, then licking Tony's hands.

Tim shifted uncomfortably in his seat, glad the desk was hiding his arousal.

"Hey, McGoo."

"Yeah, Tony?" Tim forced himself to look up.

"You want General Tso's or lo mein for lunch?" Tony held up the menu for their favorite Chinese place.

"Lo mein. You getting spring rolls?"

"Thought we could split an order, if that's OK."

"Sure."

"You want the usual, Boss?" Tony asked.

Gibbs just nodded, and Tony made the call, then headed out.

Tim used the break to get himself under control. By the time Tony was back, Tim thought it was safe to drag his chair over to Tony's desk and eat there. Gibbs leaned against the edge of the desk to eat.

"Any luck?" Tim asked Tony as he worked the chopsticks.

Tony shook his head as he chewed a forkful of General Tso's. "There are a few possibles, including one from the DEA and a former Air Force pilot. Nobody who really jumps out at me, though. You?"

"Seattle cop, third generation. There's an FBI agent who looks good, but I thought we should see if Gibbs can get Fornell's take on her first."

Gibbs nodded. "I'll let you know."

Once they'd finished, they dug back into the files.

After work, they headed to the nearby Irish pub. Tim remembered the last night the team had been there. He frowned as they settled onto bar stools and ordered drinks.

"What happened to us, Tony?" he asked. "We used to be a team, always up for a night out, except the Boss. Do you realize how long it's been?"

"The night before my car blew up," Tony promptly replied, voice quiet. "Ducky told me later that Ziva spent the whole night worrying about me. Because, you know, with her crazy ninja skills, she could sense I was being held hostage by crazed drug dealers."

"Before almost getting blown up by the CIA? You should have asked for a refund on the day." Tim rolled his shoulders. "Maybe we all should have. Even worrying, Ziva had the calmest night of any of us. Abby was raising the dead for the director, Gibbs and I were pissing off the CIA and breaking a million laws. God only knows what Palmer was doing with... with Lee."

"Yeah, that was one f'd up situation," Tony said, wiping the condensation off his beer bottle. "Nothing like finding out your lover isn't who they said they were." He grimaced.

"Not the same thing," Tim replied to the unasked question. "I never got the feeling they ever had more than mind-blowing sex. You had more with Jeanne. Like you told her, you didn't lie about the important stuff."

"No, just the stuff that could have gotten us blown up, that led her to accuse me of murder." Tony tossed back the last of his beer and signaled for another. "We're a great crew for deception by lovers. Michael hiding things from Ziva. Jenny hiding things from Gibbs."

"Wait, you don't think Gibbs and the director..."

Tony shrugged. "In Paris? Yes. The Navy Yard? Hell if I know. By the end of it, I was so sick of all the politics, the deception, I didn't even care." He knocked back half his beer in a few gulps. "Me and Jeanne. Palmer and Lee. You and Abs are the only ones on the team not playing these games."

"I don't play games, Tony." Tim turned to look at him, waited until he looked back. "Not with Abs, and not with you."

Tony threw his arm around Tim's shoulder. "You're a good man, McBoyScout. Trustworthy. Big-hearted. Sweet as a puppy."

"Why does everybody always compare me to a puppy?" Tim muttered.

Tony took another swig of beer. "You're the heart of us, Tim. Gibbs is the leader. Ducky's the brains. Abby has the science. Vance takes care of politics. Ziva's the courage." He sighed. "Ziva was the courage."

Tim pushed his glass of wine away. "She still is, Tony. She's just... she's just not our courage anymore. We have to find our own."

Tony stared at his empty beer bottle. "Not going to be easy.

"No, it's not."

"What would you say if I said screw taking it slow, come home with me?" Tony looked over at him.

Tim sighed. "We're not going to mess this up. We're not going to ruin something that has the chance to be really good because we want to forget for a few hours." He reached over and covered Tony's hand with his own. "We're going to get something to eat, then go home alone. We're going to make plans for the weekend, maybe even risk the couch this time. We're going to go back in tomorrow and find a new team member, one who brings her own courage to the table. And we're going to get in touch with Ziva, remind her she has friends here who miss her and want her back."

"Why did she do it?" Tony whispered. "Why did she stay in Israel? She said she didn't know if she loved Rivken. Did we hurt her that much? Did I hurt her that much?"

"I don't know." Tim interlaced his fingers with Tony's. "I just don't know."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yes, it's an angsty summer for the guys, even with each other to lean on. But if you've seen ToC, you already knew that. :)


	6. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So we've skipped over the rest of the summer and just arrived back in DC after the events in ToC.

When they left the Navy Yard after the North Africa mission, the men automatically headed to Tim's apartment. They were silent until they were in the apartment. Tony dropped his duffle bag right inside the door, while Tim carried his into the bedroom.

"Where's McMutt?" Tony asked. "I thought Sarah was staying here with him."

"Out for a walk?" Tim stuck his head into the living room. "Her bag is packed, but it's still here."

Tony wandered into the kitchen. "She left a note on the fridge. They're at the dog park. She said to call when you were back and she'd drop him off."

Tim nodded. "Guess she knew I wasn't up for being greeted by 85 pounds of exuberance." He smiled at his sister's description of Jethro. "C'mon, let's get cleaned up. I'm ready to burn these clothes."

Tony shook his head. "You go first, then call Sarah. She needs to see you, see that you're OK. I'll hop in after you're done."

"You sure?"

"Much as I'd love a joint shower, if I start touching you, I'm not sure I'll want to stop and Sarah needs you." Tony grinned. "She needs to see big brother came out of the lion's den in one piece."

Tim flushed. "Thanks. Once she's gone, I promise..."

"I know, Tim."

Half an hour later, Tim was dressed in clean jeans and his MIT shirt and rubbing the belly of the dog sprawled on the living room floor while Sarah looked on.

"I told you Tim would be home soon," she told Jethro.

Tim looked up and reached an arm out for his baby sister. "Thank you for taking care of him."

Sarah wrapped her arms around him tight enough to make his bruised ribs scream. She pulled back as he flinched.

"Tim! What happened?"

"Just some bruised ribs," he replied, keeping his tone light. "Things got a little rough out there."

Sarah settled back on the computer chair. "So what was this mission, anyway? You didn't say much about it."

"I can't. It's classified. What I can tell you is we got Ziva back." Tim smiled as he remembered her words in Saleem's prison, more concerned with his life than her own. "Tony and I took a few knocks along the way, but we're OK."

"Are you sure?" Sarah narrowed her eyes and looked at him.

Tim nodded. "I promise. Just a little battered. You can ask Tony when he gets out of the shower."

Sarah tipped her head, listening. "He must be out - I don't hear the water running. Why is he here?"

Tim paused, wondering what to say. "We just ... we needed some time to decompress, talk things out. It got pretty intense in there." He hoisted himself off the ground and headed for the kitchen to get a glass of water. "Tony pulled off a miracle on this mission, saved both of us."

"Couldn't have done it without you, Probie," Tony said as he stepped into the living room, clad in an Ohio State T-shirt and faded jeans. "I wasn't kidding when I described you to Saleem."

"Saleem?" Sarah asked.

"The dirtbag," Tony said. "It's a long story, and we really can't tell you anything." He pulled Tim's writing chair from its corner behind the bookshelf and settled down.

"So how did he describe you?" Sarah asked, looking at Tim.

Tim felt heat flood his face. "I was more impressed with his description of Gibbs. Though if we ever call him a functional mute to his face..."

"He'll head-slap us so hard I'll wish I had my old football helmet," Tony replied. "You know, McGeek, I was serious. You do have the heart of a lion. We wouldn't have made it through this without it, well without that and your big brain that got us there in the first place."

Tim looked down as the heat seeped from his face through the rest of his body. "Like you said, together we're virtually unstoppable."

"Sounds like you did some good work together," Sarah said. "How's Ziva?"

Tim and Tony exchanged glances.

"Don't make me hug you again, Tim," she said.

Tim sighed. "Tony and I were only in the dirtbag's hands for several hours. He had Ziva for three months."

Sarah looked at him in horror. "Is she ... OK?"

"She will be," Tony said. "No today and not tomorrow. But one of these days she'll be OK." He leaned over to scratch Jethro behind the ears. "Yeah, I know, McMutt. Missed you too."

"Much as I'd love to catch up with you guys, you both look ready to fall over. Tim, I'll call you tomorrow."

"I'll be here. Vance gave us all week off. If I don't answer, it's because I'm asleep."

Sarah nodded as she walked into the bedroom to get her bag. "I changed the sheets this morning, so it's all ready for you."

"Thanks," Tim said. "Crawling into bed sounds really appealing right now." He stifled a laugh at Tony's smirk.

Sarah came back out, bag in hand and leaned over to give Tim a gentle hug. "I'm glad you're back safe, and I'll tell Mom and Dad I saw you. I won't mention the ribs, cuts and bruises."

"Thus saving me a frantic phone call from Mom," Tim said. "Thanks again."

"Hey, you didn't call them when I was suspected of murder. Least I can do is keep them away until you can handle a hug without cringing." Sarah opened the apartment door. "Oh, and Tony?" Sarah looked back over her shoulder, smirking. "I'm glad to see Agent Tommy realized he was better off with McGregor than Lisa. Just don't let her or Amy find out."

As she shut the door, the two men looked at each other.

"How'd she know?" Tim said.

"How should I know? She's your sister."

"And you think that means I understand her?" Tim said. "At least it doesn't sound like she's going to say anything to Abby."

"Thanks goodness for small miracles." Tony stretched and arched his spine until it popped. "Now that we're finally alone and McMutt's been fed, how does bed sound?"

Tim didn't reply, just pushed himself up and grabbed Tony's hand, leading him to the bedroom.

While Tim pulled down the covers, Tony drew the blinds to dim the afternoon sun. He turned back and pulled Tim close, sliding his hands under Tim's shirt to run up his back. They kissed, reveling in the closeness after a week surrounded by other people. Tim ran his hands up Tony's chest, sliding his T-shirt up. They undressed each other gently, careful of the injuries Saleem's men had left, then lay down on the bed. Tony pulled Tim on top to ease the strain on his ribs, and was rewarded by Tim brushing his lips over each cut and bruise, feather-light touches that comforted and seduced.

Afterward, they snuggled together, Tim draped across Tony's chest, Tony's arms wrapped around his back.

"I missed you," Tony said. "It sounds crazy, since we've been together for a week, but..."

"... I know. I missed you, too. Just lying there, pretending I was unconscious the entire time Saleem was interrogating you. And then when they brought Ziva in..."

Tony nodded and placed a gentle kiss on Tim's forehead. "We got her back. Our family's all together again."

Tim smiled sleepily. "And we have plenty of time this week to spend together."

"Why don't we take McMutt to the park in the morning, then head to my place to watch some movies on the couch?"

"Sounds good."

The next afternoon, the guys were settled on the couch watching "Dr. No," Tim leaning against Tony's chest, when they heard a fusillade of knocks on the door.

"I'll get it," Tony said, easing himself from behind Tim and pulling on a T-shirt.

Tim swung around to pull his own T-shirt on, and when the door opened, was glad he had.

"Tony!"

Tim looked over to see his partner with his arms full of exuberant Goth.

"Hey, Abs," Tony said. "What's up?"

"I didn't get to see you last night, I was with Ziva, but she's got Ducky and Jimmy with her today and I wanted to make sure you were OK and then go find Timmy and make sure he's OK, too, because I don't know what Saleem did to you, but he's not a good guy and your plan was to get tortured and I know you looked OK, or at least better than Ziva did, but that doesn't mean you are, and I wanted to be sure."

"I'm right here, Abs," Tim said, standing up. "But I've got some bruised ribs so don't..." He didn't spit it out quickly enough to keep the forensic scientist from squeezing him in one of her Abby-hugs, but she pulled back when he curled up in pain.

"Oh, my god, Timmy, I'm so sorry, I didn't realize. I should have realized. I..."

"Abs, it's OK. I'm just a little banged up." Tim settled back on the couch, while Tony took the chair on the other side, noticeably away from Tim. "Sarah did the same thing yesterday."

"I saw her Monday," Abby said. "We took Jethro out to the park and played with him. He was so happy to see his Aunt Abby. I haven't had any Jethro time in months, and it was so fun to play with him."

Tim decided to change the subject before Abby asked why she hadn't gotten Jethro time in months. "So how's Ziva doing?"

Abby's expressive mouth twisted. "She had nightmares last night, but she won't talk about them. Ducky's hoping he can get her to open up some today, help her get it all out. I did some aromatherapy for her to help her get back to sleep, some lavender and chamomile."

The men exchanged glances, remembering their own broken sleep. Saleem might be dead, but he was still having an effect on the team.

"She'll be OK, in time, Abs," Tony said. "I think we all are going to need a little time before we're sleeping well again. Even Gibbs."

"He'll just find something to sand," Abby said. "I'm bringing dinner to Bossman tonight, make sure he doesn't try and start a new boat." She settled on the couch next to Tim. "So what movie are we watching?"

Tim suppressed a sigh as Tony started the movie again from his seat on the other side of the coffee table. So much for a cozy afternoon watching movies.


	7. Chapter 6

Tim looked over at Tony, frowning at the dead expression on his face. Tony had been his most exuberant and irrepressible when he took the dummy slug down to Gibbs, overlaid with satisfaction at pulling one over on Ben-Gidon. When he came back up from escorting the Israeli out, he was barely responsive to Tim's queries.

Tim, knowing he wouldn't get anything out of him at the office, hadn't pushed. But he wasn't going to wait for the weekend, either. Mossad and Eli David had taken too much out of Tony already. Caring for Tony took precedence over their "no sleepovers on a school night" rule. He puled up the IM program and tapped out a message.

 **Elflord:** Jethro's missing his favorite belly-rub provider. He'll trade dinner for some.

 **MovieBuff:** Not hungry

 **Elflord:** Still need to eat

 **MovieBuff:** Yes, McMom

 **Elflord:** Thinking of cutting back to four miles tomorrow because it's getting cold in the mornings.

 **MovieBuff:** I can handle that

The men headed out after Gibbs and Ziva finished in interrogation. Ziva left without saying anything to them. Gibbs just jerked his head, silently telling them to go.

"Good work, DiNozzo," he said as they left the bullpen.

"Thanks, Boss," Tony said quietly.

Once in the elevator, Tim started to ask Tony what he wanted for dinner, but Tony stopped him.

"Just, just don't say anything, Tim," he said. "Not here."

"Not here." Tim wanted to make sure Tony would talk. "Meet me there?"

Tony just nodded, but when they left the Navy Yard, he followed Tim's car home.

Once Tim was close, he called the Italian place and placed a delivery order. By the time he and Tony had gotten home, changed into worn jeans and T-shirts and fed an excited German shepherd, the delivery man was ringing the bell. Tim paid for the food while Tony set out plates and grabbed a bottle of red wine from Tim's collection.

When he set the food on the counter between the kitchen and living room, Tim raised his eyebrows at the wine, but didn't say anything. The two men dished out the food and started eating in silence. Tim waited until Tony was on his second glass of wine before bringing up Tony's change in mood.

"What did Ben-Gidon say when Gibbs confronted him?" Tim asked.

Tony carefully put his fork down. "He was following orders." The older man drained the rest of his second glass of wine. He reached out to pour another one, but Tim stopped his hand.

"Tim, if you want me to talk about this, let me have the damn wine. I'm not going to dive into the bottle like my damn father." Tony glared at him and pulled his hand away. Tim just nodded in response.

Tony filled his glass again and pushed his plate away. "He sent Ben-Gidon to burn her. The man accused her of murdering a former Marine in front of Gibbs. David's not stupid. He knows how Gibbs would take that. Who does that? Who sends his daughter on a suicide mission, then lets her rot in a prison camp for three months, then sends one of his top agents to burn her with the men who rescued her? Even my father's not that f'd up."

Tim reached over and rubbed small circles on Tony's back. "You're talking about the man who raised his son to be a Hamas mole. I'm not sure anything Eli David does can be judged by normal dad standards."

"Yeah, well I wouldn't know, would I," Tony said. "Not like I know what a normal father is like. The only reason why my family's less screwed up than Ziva's is that I don't talk to them and they've never made multiple attempts on my life." He drained the third glass of wine. "You wouldn't know what that's like. Your family's nice. Normal. Your dad actually thinks of you and Sarah as his kids, not pawns in some bigger game." Tony stood and starting clearing the counter. "You know what Ziva told me the first day what we met?"

Tim shook his head and joined Tony cleaning up. His appetite was gone anyway, smothered by his concern for the bitter tone in his partner's voice.

"She told me about Tali, how she was killed by a suicide bomber. She said 'She was the best of us. Tali had compassion.' I thought she meant the best of the three of them. Compassion certainly wasn't something Ziva spared time for back then. But now I realize she meant her whole family. David doesn't have an ounce of compassion in him. If Ziva can't help him, she's worthless to him."

"Then he's an idiot," Tim said. "That's his problem, his loss."

Tony walked into the living room and grabbed Tim's writing chair, straddling it, arms crossed across the top. "You think it's that easy?" He rested his forehead on his arms. "You spend your entire life trying to mold yourself into something that pleases your father. He's your father, you know. He must be right. And it's never enough. So you finally go your own way, and he tries to yank you back. Maybe you get away. But underneath, there's this little kid in you that still wishes you could have your father, just once, be proud of who you are."

Tim stood behind Tony, hands working the stress out of his shoulders, knowing Tony would say more if he wasn't looking at Tim. "Are we talking about Eli? Or Anthony Sr.?"

"You wouldn't understand, Tim." His tone was factual, not pleading. "You've got the normal dad. You're the only one in our twisted little NCIS family that doesn't actually, you know, need us to be your family. You've got the younger sister, no need for Ziva and Abby. You've got a dad that loves and protects you, no need for Papa Smurf. You've got a grandfather, no need for Ducky." Tony rubbed his fingers against his eyes. When he pulled them away, Tim saw light reflecting in the dampness on them. "If one of us left, you wouldn't be left with a hole in your family."

Tim walked around and crouched down in front of the chair so his eyes were level with Tony. "I know Eli David has spent the last six months screwing with your head, so I'm going to say this as many times as it takes for you to believe it. You guys are as much my family as Sarah and my parents. Abby's got a big family too, and she's close to them. It doesn't make us less her family. Same with Jimmy. I was as scared when you were facing that murder rap as I was when Sarah showed up here covered in blood that night. When Gibbs got blown up, when Ducky got stabbed, when Ziva was left for dead... I felt the same way I would feel if it was my dad, or grandfather or Sarah. And right now, if anything happened to you, I'd be devastated. You're my family. You're the family I picked. We might not be the traditional family, and we might not be talking about getting a place with a yard where our kids can play, but if you died, I'd know what Gibbs felt when Shannon and Kelly were killed." He looked into Tony's eyes. "So you might not have a dad like mine, or a sister like Sarah. But you're also not stuck with a father like Eli or a brother like Ari. Gibbs, Ziva, Ducky, Jimmy, Abby and me, we'd fight for you. We'd take a bullet for you. And when you figured out how to bluff Ben-Gidon today, we were as proud of you as any family can be." Tim leaned in and rested his forehead against Tony's.

Long minutes later, Tony pulled away. "So when I screw things up because the only relationship I've had that lasted longer than a few weeks was my undercover op, are you saying you aren't going to kick my ass?"

Tim stood and reached out to pull Tony to his feet. "Well, we've made it four months so far. Jethro misses you during the week. Sarah asks about you whenever we talk. And Gibbs hasn't killed us yet. Doesn't mean I won't kick your ass if you need it, but I'd say we're making this work."

Tony chuckled. "Yeah, I guess we are at that. Remind me of that the next time I get my head stuck up my ass?"

"Always," Tim said. "Even if you did let Abby talk you into scamming me with that computer virus."

That got a real laugh out of Tony. "Well when she came to me grumbling that you were MIT-ing her to insanity and we needed to do something to take you down a peg or two, what was I supposed to do?"

"Yeah, yeah, I know. DiNozzo always takes the chance to put one over on Probie."

"I'll make it up to you, Tim." Tony led the way to the bedroom. "Just let me show you how much I appreciate you and your mind."

When the men settled into sleep, wrapped around each other, Tim wondered, not for the first time, if they should talk about finding a place together. He drifted off to sleep with a smile on his face.

Just a few hours later, the smile was gone as Tony's nightmare woke him up. The whimpers woke him first.

"No, no." Tony curled into a small ball. "I didn't mean it. I won't do it again."

Tim lay there, unable to move. He didn't know if he should try to wake Tony, or if that would be worse. He called his name, softly. When Tony didn't react, he called him again, a bit louder. Still no reaction. Tim placed a hand on Tony's shoulder, gently. Tony curled up tighter. Tim rubbed his hand, and Tony jerked.

"What?"

"Shh," Tim said. "It's just me."

"Tim?"

"You had a nightmare." Tim moved his hand to Tony's back, moving in small circles. "Want to talk about it?"

"Not a nightmare," Tony said. "And no, I'm not going to talk about it."

He wouldn't. All Tim could do was hold him until he fell back asleep, though sleep eluded Tim the rest of the night.


	8. Chapter 7

The next morning, Tony set a hard pace when he and Tim headed out for their morning run. After just a mile, his lungs were burning, but all the feelings that swarmed through him during his flashback in the middle of the night needed an outlet. Tony focused on the rhythmic pounding of feet on pavement, the feel of air burning through his lungs. Anything that didn't send him into the dark room, the one he thought he'd left behind years ago. He didn't slow down until spots started flashing in front of his eyes.

"Tony? You OK?" He could hear Tim's voice.

"Yeah. Just ... winded." Tony bent over, hands on his quads to support him as he gasped for breath. His chest felt like it was on fire.

"Are you sure? You're white as a sheet." Tim crouched on the ground in front of him and looked up, worry evident in his pale green eyes.

Tony nodded, not sure he could get words out. He struggled to get a few more breaths in, and gradually the burning in his chest eased off. He pushed his hands into his legs as he straightened up. "I'm OK. Just went a little too hard."

Tim put an arm around his waist as they starting walking home. "You think? What'd you think, we were chasing a suspect?"

Tony shook his head. "Didn't think. Just ran." He sucked in another breath, feeling the tightness in his lungs ease.

"Come on, let's get home. I want Ducky to check you out when we get to work."

"I'm fine, McWorrywart." Tony knew he shouldn't take it out on Tim, but he didn't want to give Ducky a chance to ask any questions. Ever since the medical examiner had earned his psychology degree, Tony had worried Ducky would see behind his armor.

Tim's lips tightened, but his tone was even. "Then Ducky will look at you and tell me I'm being a big mother hen. Come on, Tony, just work with me here."

"Yeah, yeah. And how are you going to explain bringing me in?"

"You met me so we could run together. After you almost passed out, I insisted on driving you in."

"Sure, make me look helpless in front of Gibbs. Not a chance."

Tim looked at his watch. "We're already going to be late if we both want to shower. At least this way we're not going to be lying to Gibbs on top of everything."

Tony frowned. "Great. Not only do I hate it, but you're right and we don't have any other choice. I think I hate that more."

"Come on, let's get going. I'm going to call Gibbs."

Tony scowled, but didn't say anything as Tim removed his arm and dialed their boss' cell phone. Judging by Tim's end of the conversation, it was going to be one of those days.

"Boss, it's McGee."

"Tony and I are going to be late."

"We went running together, we do it a couple times a week. Tony went too hard and his lungs seized up, almost passed out."

"He says he's OK, but he agreed to see Ducky when we get in."

"We've got about a 10-minute walk back to my house, then we have to shower and drive in. We'll probably be about 20 minutes late."

Tim listened for a second, then handed Tony the phone. He grimaced as he took the slim metal device and held it to his ear.

"Yes, boss?"

_"You OK, DiNozzo?"_

"Fine, boss. Just pushed myself too hard."

_"Ya think?"_

"It won't happen again."

_"We both know that's not true. Get in here, see Duck. Call Brad. Get checked out."_

"But, boss."

_"DiNozzo."_

"Yes, boss."

As the air went dead on the other end of the phone, Tony hung up and handed the phone back to Tim. "Great. He wants me to go see Brad after I see Ducky."

Tim raised his eyebrows. "You think you're going to get me on your side? Tony, you scared the hell out of me back there. If Gibbs and Ducky didn't insist you see Brad, I would have."

"Yes, McMom." Tony rolled his eyes. He knew Tim and Gibbs were right to insist, but he hated admitting he wasn't invincible.

When they arrived at the Navy Yard, Tony sent Tim upstairs. "No need for Gibbs to kill both of us," he said. "I promise, I'm headed to Autopsy right now." He held Tim's gaze until the younger man nodded.

"You'll tell me if it's anything serious?"

Tony nodded. "You really think Ducky will let me get away with not telling Gibbs or you guys if it is?"

"Well, no..."

"Go on, McGoo. Bossman needs all the help he can get with his senior field agent out of commission."

Once the elevator doors closed, Tony headed down to the basement.

"Ah, Anthony. Jethro said you would be stopping by."

"Hey, Duckman." Tony hoisted himself on one of the empty tables. "I'm fine, really. Just pushed myself too hard when McGee and I went running this morning. Had to challenge Probie, help whip him into shape."

Ducky just looked up at him and waited.

"OK, so maybe I pushed a little too hard."

"Anthony, I know you think you're invincible, and as many times as you've escaped death, there might just be some truth to that. But must you put yourself to the test for no reason?" As the medical examiner kept his eyes on Tony, the field agent had to look away.

"Ah, I rather thought there might be a reason beyond testing young Timothy." Ducky motioned for Tony to take off his shirt. "You seemed a bit subdued when you left yesterday afternoon."

"Long day. Dirtbag made it personal."

"Yes, I do believe that Director David truly deserves the fate meted out in the final circle of the Inferno. And your quick thinking yesterday was quite ingenious." Ducky pulled out a stethoscope to listen to Tony's lungs. "Ziva is quite blessed to have you on her side, as are we all."

"She is family, and if there's one thing we Italians believe, it's that you don't mess with family." Tony gritted his teeth as the cold metal pressed against his back.

"Yes, indeed. Family is most important, especially the family we choose for ourselves. Sometimes even more so than the family we are born with."

Tony glared at the medical examiner, knowing whatever he said would just give Ducky more material to analyze.

"My dear boy, you are so like Jethro. So determined to be independent, to allow nobody entry." Ducky sighed. "It has not escaped your notice, I hope, that for all Jethro's good qualities, he finds himself alone, despite many attempts otherwise. Attraction and passion will spark a relationship, but without trust and openness, it will soon run out of oxygen and smother itself."

Tony kept his face neutral, wondering if Ducky suspected.

"Ziva has built many walls within herself to survive this long. I do not believe that keeping up either those walls or your own is possible if you want to move past what has happened these many months." Ducky motioned for Tony to put his shirt back on. "If you are afraid to let people in because you do not want to get hurt, you run the risk that there will be nobody about whom you feel strongly enough to generate that hurt. Contrary to popular belief, it is not our enemies who can inflict the most damage upon us. It is the people with whom we are the closest."

"Ducky." Tony kept his voice low. "Just tell me I'm clear to go back to work."

"Yes, yes. Your lungs sound better now, just a slight wheeze. I do think you should make an appointment with Dr. Pitt, though. I suspect you might have developed a touch of exercise-induced asthma, and your run today triggered an attack. Not a serious one, of course, or you would not have been able to recover without treatment. But especially as we head into the colder weather, it is something to monitor closely."

As much as he hated to admit it, Tony knew Ducky had a point. He slid off the table. "Yes, Ducky. I'll call him as soon as I get upstairs."

"Thank you, Anthony. I know you don't like to see him, but I would rather you see him now than have us rush you to Bethesda with some sort of attack."

"Yes, Ducky. You're starting to sound like McWorry."

Ducky smiled at him. "I'm glad to know we can rely on Timothy to, as you put it, have your six in the field. We care about you my dear boy."

"I know, Duck." Tony finished buttoning his shirt and headed upstairs. Although he left Ducky behind, the medical examiner's words stayed with him the rest of the day.


	9. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As far as I know, much as nobody on the team knew Ziva shot Ari, nobody knows that Ziva made Gibbs pick between her and Tony on the tarmac in Israel. So as this tale unfolds, only Gibbs, Vance and Ziva know that; Tony, Tim, Abby, Ducky and Palmer think Gibbs left her behind. Also, the show never sent Ziva to FLETC, but she would have had to go in real life. FLETC training is eight weeks, but that completely messes with the season timeline, so I'm shortening it to three weeks. That means GCBC had to happen slightly earlier in the fall than it did, but it keeps everything else on track. So between GCBC and Code of Conduct, Ziva is out of the office at FLETC.

When Tony walked into the bullpen, Tim looked over. "Ducky let you back upstairs?"

"Yes, McWorry." Tony pulled out his chair and sat down. "He said I'm OK, but he thinks I might have some exercise-induced asthma, mild. Wants me to have Brad check it out."

Tim looked at Tony, then at the phone.

"I'm calling," Tony said. "How does Sarah put up with you, exactly?"

"I'm bigger and carry a gun," Tim retorted. "And Abby's already been through here - you'd better go see her after you check in with Gibbs or she's going to hunt you down."

Tony buried his head in his hands. "So what, pretty much everybody knows about this?"

Tim shook his head. "Ziva's not in yet. And Abby found out when I was busting her for helping you cheat on our bet."

"Me, cheat?"

Ziva walked in as they bickered about the computer virus. When she sat down, Tim saw the perfect solution to the problem. He caught Tony's eye, and they both turned toward her at the same time, dropping their stacks of folders on her desk just as Gibbs walked through the bullpen.

"Get to work ... Probie," he said, dropping the acceptance letter on the top of the stack.

"Probie?" Tim turned to look at Tony.

"Vance signed off, boss?" Tony asked.

Gibbs just nodded. "Duck see you?"

Tim sat back down as Tony filled Gibbs in. Much as he wanted to give Tony grief for pushing too much, too hard, he knew having to admit it to Ducky, Gibbs and Abby was punishment enough for his partner. And when he caught Gibbs' next words, he had to bite back a smile, knowing Tony wouldn't appreciate it.

"DiNozzo, until Brad checks you out, you run with McGee, not alone."

"Gibbs."

"Not a suggestion. Now go see Abby, let her know you're OK."

"Yes, boss."

As soon as Tony was out of the bullpen, Gibbs walked over to Tim's desk.

"What happened, McGee?" He sat on the edge of the desk.

"We went running. Just four miles because that's about his limit, less if it's cold. That's why I let him set the pace, usually about what I run, just not quite as far."

"You doing, five, six miles these days?"

Tim nodded. "Mostly five. Six a couple of days, four a couple of days. Sometimes Tony joins me for the shorter runs." OK, so it wasn't completely true, but it was close enough. They did run together on the weekends when Tony had spent the night.

"Today?"

"He went out hard, more like he was racing a mile than doing a daily run. We didn't talk. I was just trying to stay with him. I might have better endurance because of the plague, but he's still got me beat on speed."

"Any idea why?"

Tim shifted in his chair, frantically trying to figure out what to say and what not to say.

"Conference room?"

Tim nodded and followed Gibbs to the elevator. By the time the former Marine had thrown the emergency switch, Tim knew what he was going to say.

"Tony was pretty subdued after he escorted Ben-Gidon out after the interrogation. Didn't want to talk about it. You were there. Do you know what might have set him off?"

Gibbs nodded. "Director David sent Ben-Gidon here to burn Ziva, have her take the fall for killing Cryer."

Tim cursed, glad to have an excuse to let out some of his anger at the whole situation. "And Tony's hurting for her, mad at him. Probably thinking about his own miserable excuse for a father."

"Likely." Gibbs looked at Tim, held his gaze. "You two got close this summer. You make a good team. If DiNozzo lets his feelings for Ziva get in the way... I don't want to bench him."

Tim wondered if it was possible to laugh and cry at the same time. "I'll keep an eye on him, Boss. He'll be OK."

"I know. He needs to know it, too. He doesn't yet."

"He will." It was as much a promise to himself and Tony as it was to Gibbs.

 

****

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Tony walked into Abby's lab, music blaring at full volume.

She whirled around. "Tony! You're OK!" He found himself enveloped in an Abby hug, staggering backward.

"Oops. Sorry, Tony." Abby released him and turned down the music. "So what did Ducky say?"

"I'm fine, Abs. He thinks I might have a mild case of exercise-induced asthma, nothing serious. I just pushed myself too hard today."

Abby glared at him. "Ziva's father might be a rat-bastard, but that's no excuse for almost killing yourself. I know you've got a thing for her, you did good saving her from Rivken before she stayed in Israel, but you've got to take care of yourself, too. We can't lose another family member."

Tony turned away, unable to face those wide green eyes. "Abs, you don't need to worry. It's not Director David or Ziva. I just had too much energy and picked the wrong way to get rid of it."

Abby put a hand on his shoulder and spun him around. "Oh, I think we can take care of that."

Tony just looked her.

"Tonight, team drinks. We need to celebrate Ziva becoming an agent before she leaves for FLETC. The next session starts Wednesday." Abby bounced around the lab. "We haven't had a team night in a long time."

Tony smiled, remembering the conversation with Tim. "Let's hope this one is calmer than the last time we all got together."

Abby looked at him, her expressive face quizzical.

"The last time was the night before Kort blew up my car."

Abby's mouth opened as her eyebrows shot up. "No way. Not happening again. This will just be a fun night with the whole team. I'll bet we can even get Bossman to come."

Tony laughed, finally feeling the tension curled in his body ease off. "Now this, I have to see. Come on, Abs, let's go ask him."

****

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Once Tim finished his paperwork, he headed down to Autopsy.

"Good morning, Timothy," said Ducky as Tim entered. "I rather thought I might be seeing you at some point today."

"It's not every day DiNozzo almost passes out on me. Is he really OK?" Tim leaned against one of the autopsy tables. "Where's Palmer?

"Ah, Mr. Palmer has an exam this morning. He'll be in after lunch. As for Anthony, he'll be fine, at least physically. Oh, I'd wager that Dr. Pitt will prescribe an inhaler for him, but it will be a rare occurrence for him to require its use. I'm more concerned about his emotional health. The poor boy will find it most difficult to outrun his demons if he refuses to acknowledge they exist." Ducky looked up at Tim, concern evident on his face.

Tim frowned, wanting to get Ducky's opinion, maybe some ideas on how to help him. At the same time, he couldn't afford to have the medical examiner suspect they were closer than friends. Ducky wouldn't say anything, of course, but eventually it would come out, and Tony, rightly, would see it as a betrayal. The older man found it difficult enough to trust; Tim wasn't about to give him reason to doubt him.

"We didn't talk much, but I know he wasn't happy about what he heard when Gibbs was interrogating Ben-Gidon yesterday. Gibbs told me this morning that that bastard admitted to being sent by Ziva's father to set her up to take the fall for Cryer." Tim gritted his teeth at the thought. "Ducky, how can somebody treat their own child like that?"

Ducky sighed. "Sadly, not all children are as lucky as you and Abigail." He paced, arms tucked behind his back. "This can be a dismal job, exposing us to the worst of the human condition as we go about trying to protect those who protect us. You and Abigail are our innocents in many ways. You know that while there might be monsters out there, they are far outnumbered by good people. Anthony, Ziva and Jethro have a much different experience with life, one that makes its cruelty seem the standard, not its beauty." He stopped in front of Tim. "I suspect that the rest of the team will need that reminder during the coming weeks, Anthony in particular."

Tim nodded. "We know, at least a little, what happened to Gibbs and Ziva. But Tony doesn't say much about his past."

"No, he does not. Anthony has become quite adept at concealing his true feelings over the years, hiding behind a playful mask. But I am afraid one of these days, that mask will crack. While I am quite happy Ziva will continue to be part of the family, I do not think she is the one who can help Anthony through this. They are, in many ways, too much alike. Although I'd venture to guess that Mr. DiNozzo inflicted his brand of fatherhood on Anthony by being the exact opposite of Director David. Anthony also chose a different path, running away from his family rather than letting them control him." Ducky frowned. "My concern is that Anthony will run once again, unable to handle his feelings for Ziva and his anger at her father."

Tim frowned. "What exactly do you think he feels for Ziva?"

"Guilt, of course. Anthony feels responsible for Ziva staying in Israel and going on that mission to Somalia. Her father might have sent her to her death, but Anthony likely feels as though he could have stopped it if he hadn't killed Rivken and triggered the entire chain of events." Ducky sighed again. "It was obvious to all of us, Ziva included, that his suspicions of Michael Rivken were not entirely driven by concern for his teammate. I suspect those deeper feelings are driving much of his current anger, anger which he tried to run out of his system this morning."

Tim felt his heart sink at Ducky's words. If the medical examiner was right, then part of Tony's guilt was because he had tried to protect Tim when he went to Ziva's apartment that night. That would explain why he wouldn't talk about his nightmare, why he took his mood out on his own body that morning.

"How do we convince him that Ziva's father would have done what he did regardless of Tony's actions?" Tim crossed his arms, suddenly afraid he was in over his head.

"My dear lad, if I knew, I would be doing it. All I can suggest is to be there for him, all of us. Unfortunately, I think only Ziva can provide absolution, and I don't know if her own demons will allow that."

"Thanks, Ducky. I guess we just have to wait and hope we can catch him before he does run." Tim stood and left autopsy, his heart heavier than when he arrived.

As he took the elevator back to the bullpen level, Tim wondered for the first time if he and Tony would make it through this. Rescuing their supposedly dead teammate from a terrorist camp in North Africa? Piece of cake. Taming Tony's demons? That might not be possible.


	10. Chapter 9

Abby ran into the bullpen, Tony following at a more sedate pace.

"Gibbs, Gibbs, Gibbs!!!!" she said. "We have to go out tonight to celebrate with Ziva. You're coming, right?" She perched on his desk as Tony walked over to Ziva's desk.

"Notice she goes right to the boss," he whispered to her. "You don't get a choice in the matter."

Ziva smiled, a sign that had been too rare of late. "I would like to celebrate," she said. "This... This is a new beginning. It deserves new memories."

Abby was still bubbling over, trying to persuade Gibbs to join them. Tony looked over and caught Tim's eye, tipping his head toward the former Marine's desk.

"Abby's right, Boss," Tim said. "We haven't been out as a team in a long time, not since before we got split up the first time. What better reason to start than celebrating the team finally back together?" He walked over to stand by Tony and Ziva, the three presenting a united front. "Come on, you can handle one night of drinking bourbon with us instead of in your basement."

"Yes, Gibbs," Ziva said. "Besides, you do not have a boat down there anymore."

Gibbs rolled his eyes, but jerked his head in a short nod.

"Yes! Yes! Yes!" Abby wrapped her arms around him. "I'll go tell Duckman and Palmer!"

As she ran off as quickly as she had come, the agents went back to their desks. Tony figured there was no use in pushing Gibbs' good mood further by obviously goofing off.

"DiNozzo. McGee."

Both men looked over at Gibbs.

"Director has us working cold cases rest of the week. Get to work."

Tim got right up to get files from the cabinet, but Tony just had to ask.

"Why, boss? Sure, Ziva's headed to FLETC tomorrow, but we've operated a man down before."

Gibbs looked at him. "Brad cleared you?"

Tony gritted his teeth and fought back a wave of frustration. "Ducky cleared me. Brad can't see me until Thursday."

Gibbs just tipped his head.

"Yeah, yeah. Until Brad clears me you're not going to let me out of the bubble wrap. You know, when I was in that damn isolation chamber, I told Kate it was like being the boy in the bubble. Nobody told me the bubble was going to follow me for the rest of my life." Tony yanked the file cabinet drawer open and grabbed a stack of files, slamming them down on his desk. "If we're on cold case duty, I need coffee. Anybody else?"

Tim pulled out some money and walked over. "Can you get me the usual?" he said. Tony could feel the edge start to melt off his anger as Tim kept his gaze on him.

"Sure, McLatte." When he reached out his hand for the money, he felt Tim's thumb caress the back of his hand. He had to look away, afraid his walls would crumble. "Boss, Ziva?"

Ziva shook her head, but Gibbs nodded.

"Right, boss. Why'd I even bother asking."

"Don't know, DiNozzo."

As Tony walked out of the building, he rolled his shoulders a few times, trying to release the tension that had built back up. Great, just great. He knew Gibbs was right to play it safe, but Vance didn't think much of him anyway. Gibbs really didn't need to give the man another reason to doubt his capabilities. Only concern for scuffing his Guccis kept him from kicking the tree along the sidewalk. Tim's quiet reassurance was almost worse. Yesterday had opened up cracks he thought were completely patched over in the walls he'd built. He kept trying to repatch them, but then Tim would show he cared and the patch crumbled like the wall.

He needed to get his frat boy mask back in place, keep it there. The lung problems were nothing. He could survive those. He'd listen to Brad, grumble, force Gibbs to bust his ass to make him follow the rules Brad laid down, but he'd do it and his lungs would be fine, or as fine as they were ever going to be. But if Tim didn't quit reminding him he didn't have to keep up his mask, he wasn't sure he could make it. Without the mask, there would be no hiding. No way to laugh things off, to hide behind the class clown label. Tony knew Tim meant well. But he wasn't kidding when he told Tim he didn't need their NCIS family. Tim would be fine if they were gone. Tim would survive if something happened to Tony. But if something happened to Tim, if the rest of the team walked away? Or worse yet, demanded to help pull down the walls he'd built brick by brick? It was all smoke and mirrors, and all it would take was a bright light shined on him for them to see through him, see how his mere presence put them at risk.

It had always been that way. They'd drilled it into him often enough. If not for him, his mother would be alive. if not for him, his uncle wouldn't have lost the love of his life. If not for him, his grandfather would have been whole and happy. If not for him, his father would have stayed away from the bottle.

He shook his head, clearing it of the memories he usually kept locked away. He flirted with the coffee barista, just to remind himself what it was like. He grinned and joked with a couple other agents who were there for the same reason as him. Tony flirted, laughed and joked his way back to the Navy Yard, so that by the time he stepped out of the elevator, he was ready to start throwing paper balls at Probie while skewering Ziva's attempts at English idioms. And if Tim's eyes were a little too understanding, if Gibbs gave him more leeway than usual, if Ziva replied with smiles instead of sarcasm, he overlooked it and returned to cold case files, counting the tedious moments until their team night.

 

****

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The team was a cheerful bunch as they walked into their favorite bar. Abby pulled Tim to the stool next to her, so Tony slipped in on his other side. Ziva followed. Gibbs sat on Abby's other side, while Ducky and Palmer stood behind the group.

"What'll it be?" the bartender asked.

Tony and Abby tried the new microbrew they had on tap, while Tim stuck with a glass of wine. Ziva and Palmer went for cocktails, while Gibbs and Ducky kept it simple, bourbon and whiskey, both neat.

"Toast, toast!" Abby chanted as the bartender brought their drinks.

Gibbs just shook his head, so Tony figured it was his place as senior field agent.

"To our new probie." He smirked as they clinked glasses, then winced. "Hey, Probie! Only Gibbs gets to headslap me."

Gibbs just reached his glass over and tapped it against Ziva's, giving her his trademark half-smile.

"OK, OK, I know when I'm outnumbered." Tony threw up his hands. "But you're still a probie."

"Does that mean I finally get to lose the nickname?" Tim said. He gently nudged Tony's knee as he said it.

"You'll always be my probie, McGeek," Tony retorted, nudging back. "If Franks can still call Gibbs 'Probie...'"

"Yeah, yeah, I know." Tim said, grinning. "But I had to ask."

One drink turned into two as the team laughed and joked, the lighthearted ease returning after two years of tension and miscommunication. Tony hid a smirk as Abby unconsciously touched Tim, small touches to a shoulder or back as they slipped into their shared geek-speak until Gibbs threatened to make them move to opposite ends of the bar. And he knew Tim was hiding his own smirk as Tony flirted with Ziva and ragged on Palmer. It was nice to find the old vibe, the rapport that made them the best team in NCIS. Tony knew if he could have nights like this, he could handle anything.

Ziva checked her watch. "Well, I had better head home before I turn into a squash."

"Pumpkin, Ziva," Tony said. "Cinderella's coach turned into a pumpkin."

"But is not a pumpkin a type of squash?"

"Well, yes, but..." Tony just shook his head. "Never mind."

"Do you need a ride, Tony?" Ziva said.

"I'll give him one," Tim said. "His car's still at my place anyway."

Tony breathed a sigh of relief. Nice save, Tim. He hadn't even thought about that. "Yes, McMom was so worried this morning he wouldn't let me drive in."

"As well he should have been," Ducky said. "Anthony, was Dr. Pitt able to fit you in?"

Tony nodded. "Not until Thursday, though. He said he was booked solid tomorrow, and since it wasn't an emergency, I didn't want to ask him to stay late."

"DiNozzo."

"I know, boss. No running alone until he sees me." Tony rolled his eyes. "Only with McShadow here."

"That's another reason Timmy should give Tony a ride, Ziva." Abby hopped off the bar stool to wrap her arms around both their shoulders. "Tony can just stay there and go running with Timmy in the morning. Otherwise he'd have to drive back to Georgetown tonight and then drive back to Silver Spring in the morning."

Tony fought back the smile tugging at his lips. "Probie doesn't even have a couch, Abs. I draw the line at the sleeping bag."

"I'll take the sleeping bag, Tony," Tim said, delivering another nudge. "I did it for Abs when crazy stalker guy was after her, I can do it for you."

"Good." Gibbs said. "Now clear out, all of you. We've got work tomorrow."

As soon as they were in the car, away from listening ears, Tony turned to Tim. "The sleeping bag, huh?"

"Do you have a better idea for where I can sleep?" Tim's lips quirked up, tempting Tony to kiss the smirk off his face.

"Oh, I think I have an idea or two."


	11. Chapter 10

The next morning, Tim was glad that the only thing that woke him was the alarm clock. All they needed was another nightmare to set Tony off to the races before Brad had a chance to check him out. He reached over with his free arm and silenced the alarm. Tony still hadn't stirred, snuggled against Tim, lying on his chest.

Tim breathed in his scent and listened to his deep, even breathing. The quiet sound reassured him, calming the fear that had settled in his chest yesterday morning. He lay there in the dark, running his fingers along Tony's spine, wishing they could just stay here. Sighing, he called Tony's name.

"Huh?"

"Time to get up," Tim said, nudging his partner. "If you want a run before work, we need to get up."

Tony groaned and stretched, curling away from Tim and popping the bones in his spine. "OK, OK."

The two men got up and pulled on running gear and headed out as the sun was just starting to lighten the sky.

"Just three miles today," Tim said. "Gibbs will have my head if anything happens to you before you see Brad."

"I hate to say it, but you're right." The older man followed as Tim set the pace. They fell into stride together quickly, covering ground as the sun rose higher in the sky. Twenty minutes later, they were back at Tim's place and stretching on the sidewalk in front of the building.

Tim listened carefully, but didn't hear any of the horrendous wheezing that had marked Tony's breath the day before.

When they went in, Tim showered first. He could hear Tony in the kitchen, but the man was there waiting to step in when Tim got out of the shower.

"There's eggs and bacon on the counter," Tony said.

Tim reached over and kissed him.

"Best tip I ever got for cooking," Tony said, grinning. "Go on, before it gets cold."

Tim only stopped to pull on his boxers. By the time he was done eating, Tony was out of the shower. They stood side by side in front of the mirror to brush their teeth and get ready. Tim just ran a comb through his hair, while Tony mussed a glob of some styling something through his hair to get his usual spiky look.

As they were getting dressed in their bedroom... Tim paused. When did he start thinking of it as "their" bedroom? And why did he feel this warm feeling of rightness at the idea? Tony had walked back in the bathroom to check his tie in the mirror. Tim thought for a second and then raised his voice enough for Tony to hear him.

"Hey, Tony?"

Tony stuck his head into the bedroom. "Yeah?"

"I'm going up to Annapolis this weekend to visit my parents. Nothing major, just burgers on the grill. Sarah's going, too. Do you want to come?"

Tony walked slowly into the bedroom. "Meet the parents? Are you sure?"

Tim nodded. "I'm sure. We're not on call this weekend, and I've been wanting to tell them about you."

Tony opened his mouth, shut it then opened it again.

"If you're not ready, you don't have to." Tim tried to hide his disappointment.

Tony walked over and hugged him. "I do. I am. I think. It's just..."

"Just what?"

"The last time I met the parents, my car blew up."

Tim looked up as they pulled apart to see a smile on Tony's face that didn't quite reach his eyes.

"My dad isn't in EOD. And I know they'll like you. Sarah's mentioned to them I'm seeing a guy and they've been hinting that they want to meet you. I just didn't say anything because I wasn't sure if you were ready for that."

"So what changed?"

Tim shrugged. "Seeing you almost pass out yesterday. Waking up this morning and having it just be a normal day, us getting ready for work. I know we can't be out at work unless we want Gibbs to head-slap us all the way to Norfolk, but you deserve to get to know the rest of my family."

Tony thought for a second, then nodded. "I can do that." And this time, the smile did reach to his eyes. At least until he looked at his watch. "You'd better get going, or Gibbs will head-slap you for being late. And don't forget to grumble about the hard floor and sleeping bag, especially in front of Abby."

"Right." Tim pulled his gun and badge from the lockbox by his bed and handed Tony's to him. "Good luck with Brad. You'll let me know?"

"Of course, McMom. Now go. I'm headed out in a few minutes myself."

 

****

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Less than half an hour later, Tony pulled into the lot at Bethesda. He made his way to Brad's office easily, remembering the location from his many visits five years ago, and annual exams since then.

He knocked on the door frame and Brad looked up.

"Tony, come on in." Brad stood up and shook his hand. "You guys had a tough loss to USC last week."

"Sure, rub it in just because you beat the Irish. We'll see who wins the big one this year."

"Don't count your touchdowns before they're scored," Brad retorted. "So tell me about what happened yesterday."

As Tony told Brad about his attack and answered the doctor's questions, he tried to gauge Brad's reaction from his expression. The man was almost tougher to read than Gibbs. "So what's wrong with me," he finished.

Brad smiled. "I'm good, but I'm not that good," he said. "I think Dr. Mallard is probably right about the asthma, but I just want to run a few tests to be sure, take some X-rays. I'll give you an inhaler for now, and I'll want you back in here next week once we get the test results back.

Tony bit back a curse. "Come on, Brad. Seriously?"

"Have you ever had this type of attack before?"

"Well, no."

"You've gone all out before, chasing suspects, though?"

"Gotta get the dirtbags."

"And you didn't have any problems after you rescued Gibbs and his daughter's friend from drowning a few years ago?"

Tony shook his head. "Just that cold you thought might turn into bronchitis. But nothing after that went away."

"Any injuries since then to your chest or lungs?"

Tony thought about it. "I took a couple kicks to the ribs this summer in Somalia, but nothing serious. Not even bruised ribs. Tim got all those."

"McGee?"

Tony nodded. "We infiltrated a terrorist camp and rescued Ziva." He was rewarded when Brad's eyes widened.

"Tony, you get yourself into crazier situations than anybody I know."

"That's my job," Tony said. "It's not going to change."

Brad frowned. "There are days that's what concerns me." He tapped his fingers on the desk. "Any chance you were exposed to something in the camp that might have affected your lung function, like a bioweapon?"

Tony shook his head. "These guys weren't the bioweapons type. They had plenty of the metal ones, though. The only thing I inhaled there was dust from the roads as Tim and I tried to find those guys."

"Hmmm." Brad jotted down a couple of notes. "That might have made a difference." He paused. "Tony, I know you like working for NCIS, being a field agent."

"You're not going to yank me from the field." Tony felt his belly twist at the thought.

"No, I'm not. But I do want to monitor you closely for a while, make sure that this is a one-time decline, not a progressive one. I also might have some drug therapy we can do to try and improve your lung function, some things we've been testing on the older sailors that were exposed to asbestos early in their careers."

"So I can stay in the field?"

Brad nodded. "You can stay in the field. Once a week, you come here for an exam. We can do it first thing so you're not too late to work. After I've got a good baseline and we have you started on drug therapy that works, we'll cut back to monthly visits. But expect to stay with weekly visits until we get through cold and flu season."

Tony grimaced. "On one condition."

"What's that?"

"You call Gibbs and tell him. He's going to have lots of questions and go all Papa Smurf on me if I tell him."

Brad laughed. "I can do that. And Tony, I'm sorry for this. I know it's going to be an inconvenience for you to haul yourself up here every week from Georgetown."

Tony grinned. "Oh, no worries there. My latest conquest lives in Silver Spring. Staying there the night before isn't a problem."

Brad chuckled. "This one's actually lasted more than a few dates?"

"Four months." Tony's grin got even bigger. "It's that Buckeye charm. You Michigan boys wouldn't understand."

Brad just rolled his eyes. "Four months of that and she's still with you? It must be love."

Tony decided not to correct Brad. "Oh, you know."

"So do I get to meet this one?"

Tony thought frantically. "Hey, honey. This is the guy who saved me from a medieval disease." He shook his head. "She knows I'm an agent. She knows about some of the dangers. But no need to scare her too badly. That's why the gang at NCIS doesn't know about her yet. Too many stories about times I've almost gotten killed. I just got the OK to meet the parents this weekend."

"Meeting the parents? Sounds serious." Brad smiled. "When you get ready to tell her about bionic Tony, bring her along to one of your appointments. I'll reassure her."

Tony smiled. "No need, Brad. But thanks for the offer. Now how about doing those tests so I can get back to the Navy Yard before Gibbs sends out a search party."

 

****

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

_"Gibbs."_

Brad laughed at the gruff greeting. "Agent Gibbs. Dr. Pitt."

_"DiNozzo?"_

"He's on his way to the Navy Yard now, with a new inhaler."

_"He OK?"_

"I think so."

_"Think?"_

Brad winced at the anger in the agent's voice. "Dr. Mallard was right, Tony does seem to have developed a mild case of asthma. With the some caution in his workout choices, he should be fine. His inhaler will help him if he overexerts himself chasing a criminal." He waited for a reply, and when Gibbs stayed silent, Brad kept talking. "Tony asked me to call and let you know so you could ask any questions. I've also asked him to come back in for weekly checkups for a while, and then probably monthly."

_"Thought you said he was fine."_

Brad rubbed the bridge of his nose. "He is. But the asthma indicates some changes in his lung function. After he told me about his injuries from Somalia and what they went through out there, I think it's possible that it might have triggered the changes. Since we don't have any statistics on plague victims, I'm being overcautious and monitoring him more closely to make sure this isn't a progressive decline."

_"Appreciate it. Wouldn't want to lose DiNozzo."_

Brad smiled. For all his gruffness, the former Marine really cared about his people. "We didn't lose him to the plague. I'm not losing him for anything less."

_"Running?"_

"Tony said you'd ordered McGee to run with him ever since the attack. I asked him to continue to run with a buddy if he's going more than two miles, though it doesn't have to be McGee."

_"If you've got him trekking to Bethesda every week, they'll be running together those days. McGee's sleeping bag will be getting a workout."_

"You lost me, Gibbs." Brad wondered what McGee had to do with Tony's new girlfriend.

_Gibbs snorted. "McGee lives in Silver Spring. Tony stayed there last night rather than pick his car up there and drive back to Georgetown then drive back to Bethesda. McGee doesn't have a couch, so he slept in a sleeping bag and let Tony have his bed. McGee was grumbling about it this morning."_

Brad was glad this was a phone call not a video conference because he knew he looked as confused as he felt. "I'm sure they'll work it out. One other thing, Gibbs. Don't treat Tony any different because of this. He has his inhaler, and he knows how to use it. As long as he's got it, he's no less capable than he was a week ago. I know you're protective of your people, but if you make Tony feel like he's being babied, he's more likely to do something stupid."

_"Will do."_

Brad grinned at the dial tone in his ear. The grin slipped from his face as he thought about what Gibbs had said. If McGee was complaining about sleeping on the floor, he must be helping Tony cover his new relationship from the rest of the team. But Tony had said nobody at NCIS knew about it. He puzzled over it for a second, wondering what Tony was trying to hide. Tony wasn't faking his pleasure at spending the night near Bethesda, that Brad was sure of. Gibbs wouldn't be lying about McGee - he didn't even know Brad knew Tony was seeing somebody. And McGee had been running with Tony when he had his attack. So why would...

Brad smacked himself in the forehead. McGee wasn't helping Tony cover his new relationship. McGee was Tony's new relationship. He smiled. He didn't know the younger agent as well as he had gotten to know Tony, Kate and Gibbs, but he remembered a quiet man who brought a laptop to the hospital and worked from Tony's room so he could stay with him during the day while he recovered from the plague. The entire team had taken turns, but McGee, Dr. Mallard and Abby were the only ones there during the day. McGee had said it was because he could work as long as he had a computer. Brad was suddenly glad he hadn't said anything to Gibbs. He couldn't wait for next week's appointment to ask Tony about his creative version of the truth.


	12. Chapter 11

Ziva stopped by the Navy Yard since her flight to FLETC didn't leave until the afternoon. The bullpen was empty, and she did not want Ducky trying to psychoanalyze her, so she headed for the lab.

Abby's music was blaring, the familiar sound bringing a smile to Ziva's face. When she had told Officer Ben-Gidon on the Damocles that a snake could not slip back into a skin that it had shed, she knew he did not understand. How could anybody in Mossad understand NCIS? Mossad was regimented, emotionless. NCIS was a collection of personalities, each bigger than the last. Nobody would mistake Abby for McGee or Ducky for Palmer. And Gibbs. Gibbs was bound by a code of honor stricter than even her father's. Above it all was Rule No. 1 - Never screw over your partner. She had forgotten that rule and hurt Tony. The events of the summer and of yesterday had seared it into her mind. Never again would she forget. Mossad and her father were no longer her life. Her life was here. As a smile spread across her face at the thought, she entered the lab.

Abby jumped up when she entered.

"Ziva! What are you doing here? What about FLETC? Don't tell me you changed your mind? No, wait! Don't tell me a case came up?"

"Abby, I am fine. My flight does not leave until this afternoon." Ziva leaned back against the lab table. "I merely wished to stop by and see everybody before I left. Since Tony and McGee are not yet in and Gibbs was not at his desk, I thought I would visit you and Bert."

Abby squeezed the stuffed hippo before handing him over to Ziva. "Tony and Timmy aren't in yet? Timmy should be here. Tony might still be with Brad getting pricked like a pincushion, but McGee should be here. Gibbs isn't going to like this."

"You do not think Tony had another attack?" Ziva frowned. "I thought Gibbs and Ducky were being overcautious. Perhaps I was mistaken?"

Abby shook her head so hard her pigtails whipped around. "I don't know what to think. Timmy's a sweetheart, but he only slept on his floor for me because that psycho was after me. If Tony's really OK, do you think Timmy would have let him have his bed?"

"But Abby, you volunteered him," Ziva replied, puzzled. "What did you expect them to do, share a bed?"

"Well, no." She shrugged. "I- I'm not sure what I thought."

Ziva smiled. "I know Tony and McGee have become much closer since I left. I did not realize they went running together. Although that would explain why McGee is looking so, so..."

"Good?" Abby smirked. "Timmy's looking downright hot these days."

"But it is not that hot today?" Ziva knew from the look on Abby's face that she had missed another idiom.

"Not temperature hot. Jump his bones hot." Abby wiggled her eyebrows. "Come on, Ziva. You can't tell me you haven't noticed."

Ziva realized what Abby was trying to say. "You want to date McGee?"

"No! I've done that before. Timmy's a sweetheart, and he's great in bed, but he's too scared of Gibbs to ever break Rule 12."

Ziva tried to remember which was Rule 12. "It is better to ask forgiveness than permission?"

"No, that's 18. Never date a co-worker." Abby smiled. "I think Gibbs means teammates, not me, Ducky and Jimmy. But McGee was so spooked when Kate told him about Rule 12 that he called it off. He didn't want to give Gibbs a reason to ship him back to Norfolk."

Ziva felt a twist in her belly. "I suppose I cannot argue with Gibbs on Rule 12, not after Michael."

"Oh, no. Ziva, I didn't mean to-"

"It is all right, Abby. I know you did not mean anything by what you said." Ziva forced a smile on her face. "I did not mean for us to get uptracked on McGee's body."

"Sidetracked, Ziva." Abby reached over to hug her, the exuberant squeeze loosening the knot inside the Israeli. "So, Tony and McGee."

"Yes. I have noticed it ever since they... they rescued me. They seem to understand each other without even speaking sometimes. Like last week..."

***********

_The men walked back into the bullpen after investigating a dead petty officer at Pax River. Ziva had compiled everything she could find about Petty Officer Keith Zane into a file and she handed it to Gibbs as he walked past her desk. Gibbs pulled out his hated reading glasses and scanned it as Tony put out a BOLO for the petty officer's missing truck and McGee started pulling financial records._

_"Ziva, the witnesses say they saw a tall sailor, Latino or Middle Eastern, running away from Zane's house," McGee said._

_"I will pull a list of all the sailors at Pax River that fit that description." She turned back to her computer to key in the search terms as Tony walked over to stand behind McGee, arm behind him as he looked over his shoulder._

_"Anything suspicious, McBanker?"_

_Ziva looked over to see McGee jerk his head the way Gibbs often did, so small it was barely noticeable. Tony's eyes narrowed. "Really?" He pointed to a point on the screen and McGee started tapping._

_"Good call," he said a minute later._

_Ziva's computer started beeping, so she looked back to pull up the results._

_"Six sailors at Pax River fit that description, McGee," she said. "Only one is in Zane's unit."_

_"Petty Officer Marco Hernandez," Tony said._

_"Yes. How did you...?"_

_"Hernandez withdrew $2,000 from his savings account the same day Zane got a deposit for that same amount," McGee said._

_Ziva started pulling information on Hernandez as Tony gave McGee a high-five. "Good tracking, McSnoopy."_

_McGee just smiled at him and started typing. "Let's see what else I can find in here."_

_Tony reached around him to point at the screen; McGee just nodded._

**************

"Gibbs has always been able to say what he needs without saying anything. But Tony and McGee, they did not do that before. They could tell what Gibbs was not saying."

Abby cut Ziva off. "Well, yeah. You don't last with Bossman if you don't understand grunts and looks."

"But they only did that with Gibbs. Not with each other. It was as if there were entire conversations going on that I did not understand." Ziva bit her lip, trying to fight against the hurt she felt. "I have seen this many times since I have been back."

Abby wrapped her in a giant hug. "Oh, Ziva. I'm sure it's just that they had to lean on each other this summer while you were gone. Tony was so upset, we put in lots of time trying to track you down. I'm sure it's just that he and McGee now understand each other like Timmy and I do when we started geek-speaking. We don't even realize we're doing it. Just watch, it'll be back to normal once you're back here from FLETC and the team is all together again."

Ziva forced a smile to her face. "I am sure you are right Abby. I must be imagining it."


	13. Chapter 12

With only cold cases, the rest of the week went slowly, but the weekend finally arrived. Saturday morning saw Tim and Tony on the road to Annapolis for a cookout with Tim's family.

"So they're not going to hate me, right?" Tony tried to keep his tone light, but he could tell from the look on Tim's face he hadn't been entirely successful.

"They're not going to hate you," he said. "You might get a couple of questions about 'Officer Lisa,' though."

"So how are you handling that in the next book? Is she still Officer Lisa, or are you making her an agent?"

Tim laughed. "Do you really think anybody would believe that Tibbs has enough pull to get her through the citizenship and residency hurdles so she can be an agent? Not to mention I'd have every anti-immigration person in the country writing me hate mail."

"Good point." Tony leaned back to enjoy the breeze in his hair. "So how is the new book coming? I haven't seen you writing much lately. You don't have writer's block again, do you?"

"Tony."

"Sorry, creative stifling." He smirked as that earned him a head slap.

"Usually I write during the week. This week's just been a little ... chaotic."

Tony frowned. "You know you can still write if I'm staying over, don't you."

Tim nodded. "I know. I just couldn't concentrate until Brad cleared you. I might try and get a few pages written tonight if that's OK."

"It's a fall Saturday. I'm pretty sure I can find enough college football to keep me occupied while you're pounding away." Tony tipped his face up to the sun. "We are going to be back in time for the game, right?"

"Of course." Tim smiled. "My dad already has the TV staked out for the Navy game this afternoon."

"Except for his taste in football teams, I like him already." Tony relaxed into the seat, comfortable that he had at least one conversation topic if things got awkward.

Before he knew it, they were pulling into the McGees' driveway. It was a small house, the yard filled with colorful flowers. Tony raised an eyebrow at the hoop over the garage. "You never told me you played basketball."

Tim shook his head. "Wrestling, remember. Mom's the basketball player. She played in college. Sarah and I never got beyond rec league."

"Talking about me again, Tim?"

The men looked over to see Sarah on the front porch.

"Tony was asking about the hoop," Tim said. "Think we can get Mom to challenge him to some one-on-one?"

Tony started to laugh. "You guys don't want to play? We could make it two-on-two. What do you think Sarah, want to take on Tim and your mom?"

Sarah smiled. "I don't know, Mom might not want to be stuck with Tim on her team."

Tim elbowed Tony. "Don't answer that, or I'm going to think it was a mistake to bring you here." His smile robbed the words of their sting, and Tony settled for putting him in a headlock.

"Sarah, are you causing trouble again?"

Tony looked up to see a tall woman with graying dark hair and fair skin standing on the front porch, arms crossed. As he let Tim go, she walked down the steps. "You must be Tony," she said. "Sarah was telling us all about you." She reached for Tony and he offered his hand to shake it. Too late, he realized she had intended to hug him, but she recovered quickly.

"You must be Mrs. McGee," he said. "It's nice to meet you. And don't believe everything Sarah says."

Sarah opened her mouth, but before she could speak, her mother said. "Go help your dad with the food." She reached over to hug Tim. "It's nice to see you again."

"I know, it's been a while," Tim said sheepishly. "Gibbs must have done something to irritate Vance because it seems like we've been on call every weekend."

"I'm just glad you look better than you did the last time we saw you. Tony, did you get as beaten up as Tim on that mission he can't talk about?" They walked into the house and through to the back deck, where an older man with sandy brown hair in a military haircut was putting a basket of vegetables on the grill.

"We both got banged up, Mom," Tim said. "Tony's been hurt a lot worse than I have on a lot more cases." He shot a grin at Tony. "I'm not the one with the NCIS concussion record."

"Hey," Tony exclaimed in mock outrage. "Four of those are from my football days. NCIS doesn't get credit for those." When the McGees started laughing, Tony felt his chest loosen. "So, somebody mentioned a basketball game?"

"You played?" Tim's mother asked.

"Ohio State, graduated in 1992." Tony kept his tone quiet, not wanting to come off as bragging.

"You made the Elite Eight that year, right?" Tim's mom smiled. "Old Dominion, but before they won the national title. The freshmen my senior year won that one as seniors."

"You still play?"

"There's a league on base that I play in. Not many minutes these days; I can't keep up with the kids fresh off their high school teams." She smiled again. "You?"

"The Y has a pick-up game Sunday mornings. I usually join that game. Tim's come to watch, but he won't play."

"Tony, you've got some former NBA players in that game, and the rest of you played college ball," Tim said. "I still can't beat my mom in a one-on-one game even with a 5-inch height advantage."

"Sounds like I'm going to be refereeing a couple of games this afternoon," Tim's dad said as he walked over and stuck out his hand. "Sean McGee."

"Tony DiNozzo."

"Also known as Agent Tommy," Sarah said, ducking away from Tim as he went to head-slap her.

"I'm pretty sure Mr. Gemcity isn't writing a scene where Agent Tommy meets Agent McGregor's family," Tony said. "So what can I do to help?"

He breathed a sigh of relief as Mrs. McGee put him to work carrying out bowls of potato salad and fruit salad. He couldn't help comparing this relaxed afternoon to dinner with Jeanne's mother or the fiasco that was meeting Rene Benoit. The relaxed atmosphere stayed as they set the outdoor table and dished up the food. Tony was just about to sit down when Mr. McGee coughed.

"Dad? Are you sick?" Tim asked, putting a hand on Tony's arm.

"It's just a cold, Tim. I'm fine."

"Still..." Tim paused. "Tony, why don't we switch places."

"Yes, McMom." Tony rolled his eyes, but knew he wasn't going to win this battle.

"Tim?" asked his mother. "Is anything wrong?"

Tony thought back to his evasion to Brad the other day and had to laugh. "It's kind of a long story, Mrs. McGee, going back to a case Tim's first year on the team." Noticing she still looked worried, he hurried to reassure her. "Tim's just worried because after a biohazard attack, I've got some scarring in my lungs, makes me more susceptible to respiratory infections."

"Biohazard attack?" Mr. McGee asked.

"Well, this letter arrived at headquarters..." Tony tried to make the story as light as he could, leaving out the endless minutes of coughing up his lungs and focusing on the little stories, like Brad's comments about Angelina Jolie and Gibbs ordering him not to die. It took most of the meal to finish, with Tim interjecting every few minutes to tell what was going on while Tony was in isolation. "So I'm now some crazy footnote in medical journals and Tim, Gibbs and Brad get a little overprotective when there's a chance I might get sick. As Brad always says, there's no statistics on what happens to plague survivors."

"If Tim hadn't assured us that he left the craziest cases out of his book, I wouldn't believe that," Mr. McGee said. "But somehow, it seems perfectly plausible. I even remember the original rape case investigation."

"I didn't realize you had been stationed at Annapolis that long," Tony said.

"Oh, yes. I've been here for several years. I had the opportunity for this posting when Tim was about to start high school, and I decided it was too good an opportunity to pass up, so the kids could finish school in one location. The Navy hasn't wanted to reassign me, and it's nice living in one place after almost 20 years of tours all over the world. I've got so many years in now that if they ever tried to reassign me, I'd probably just retire."

"Yeah, I'll believe that when I see it," Tim retorted. "So how about we break out the basketball. I want to see who wins this one."

"Mom's never lost," Sarah said.

"Tony's got almost 20 years on me," Mrs. McGee said. "But we'll see."

As they walked out front, Tim pulled Tony aside. "You brought your inhaler, right?"

Tony just pulled it out of his pocket to show him, then tucked it away. "I'll be fine."

Ten minutes into the game, he wasn't so sure. He might have the age advantage, but Mrs. McGee was good, using her ball-handling skills to compensate for the height difference. She didn't play dirty, but she was aggressive, diving for balls and throwing a couple of hard fouls. By the time Tony swished an outside shot for three to win by a point, he was breathing hard and wondering if he might need the inhaler after all.

"You OK?" Tim's dad asked.

Tony nodded, resting his laced fingers on his head to give his lungs more room to expand. "Just don't have the wind I used to," he said. He walked a few steps, letting his breathing return to normal. "I'm good now."

"More than good," Sarah said. "You dethroned the champ."

Tony smiled and held out his hand to Tim's mom. "Good game."

"I'm looking forward to a rematch next time you come over," she replied. The words settled in Tony's heart, softening the walls around it.

When they got back to Tim's that afternoon, Tony settled in on the bed to watch the game while Tim headed for his typewriter.

Several hours later, the clicking of keys in the other room told him Tim was still going strong. Jethro was curled up on the bed, nudging Tony's hand every time he stopped scratching the dog's ears.

"Yeah, I know, McMutt. Your dad's in his own little world. That's OK, I've got you."

As all the late games turned into blowouts, Tony's attention drifted. He thought back to the afternoon with Tim's family, wondering why he had been so convinced it would be a disaster. The McGees were just like Tim - open, honest, uncomplicated. It was easy to see how Tim had survived his years of bullying and still come out well-adjusted.

Tony wondered what it would be like to have grown up knowing his family loved him unconditionally. No strings, no recriminations. Just acceptance and love. Even his father, the one family member Tony was still in touch with, however rarely, couldn't provide that. Sure, he avoided inflicting pain, unlike the rest of the family. No verbal harangues from his grandfather that scarred deeper than the blows his uncle delivered at the least provocation. Just ignored Tony, preferring to find his solace in a bottle of whiskey. No matter what Tony achieved, it wouldn't earn him even a pat on the head. Nothing he did was ever good enough to convince his father he was worth paying attention to, worth saving his son from the pain inflicted by his father-in-law and brother. Nothing was ever good enough because the only thing Tony could have done right was not be born. If not for carrying and bearing him, his mother would be alive. Uncle Carmine still wouldn't be married to her; he'd lost that battle to his younger brother long before Tony was born. But he could still be around her. His grandfather would have the daughter he doted on, not the grandson that reminded him with every look of his emerald eyes that she was gone. They'd held it together those 10 long years after his birth, as she fought the pain, the scarring. She hadn't been dead a day when they unleashed their true feelings.

Tony wiped his eyes, erasing any hint of moisture. Tim couldn't write all night, not without making his finger muscles spasm from the work of typing the old mechanical keys, and Tony didn't want him to realize where his thoughts had gone. Instead, he turned off the TV and lights and snuggled under the comforter.

That was the last thing he knew until the nightmare woke him hours later.


	14. Chapter 13

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Be warned, this chapter is both short and brutal. The italicized type is Tony's nightmare.

_Tony walked into the house, carefully placing his basketball in the rack hidden in the closet at the back entrance to the estate. He looked at it for a minute, ensuring it was in the exact spot, logo facing out and centered. That done, he untied his basketball sneakers and placed deodorizers in them, tucking the laces in. He closed the door, making sure it was shut, then dashed up the back stairs, hoping to reach his bathroom before..._

_"Anthony." The deep voice pinned him in place at the top of the steps. He slowly turned around._

_"Yes, Grandfather?"_

_"What have you been doing? You reek." The old man kept his distance, but blocked Tony's path so he couldn't get to the safety of his room. "Have you been digging at the dump with the rest of the garbage?"_

_"I had a basketball game. We won the game for a spot in the championship tomorrow."_

_"No thanks to you, I'm sure. Always the same, destroying anything you touch. If your coach is smart, you'll stay on the bench the entire game tomorrow. If you even get to attend. I'm sure he'd be happy if I ordered your father to keep you home; it would save him from having to play somebody who never should have been born." The old man's eyes glittered as he sneered at the pre-teen._

_Tony felt the familiar injustice welling up. "I had a double-double, led the team in scoring. Without me, the team wouldn't be playing tomorrow." He forced himself to stand tall, to meet the old man's eyes. "Mom would have been there to cheer me on."_

_"She would have dragged herself out to see such a worthless piece of shit, taking another couple weeks off her life. If she hadn't forced herself to pretend she cared for you, she would still be alive." The old man spat the words at Tony, his hands tightening into fists. "If she hadn't insisted on having you, she'd be alive today." He stepped closer._

_Tony forced himself not to look away. Grandfather would never hit him. Only Uncle Carmine would lash out, his fists pummeling Tony's ribs, hurting him where nobody could see. Grandfather only threw words at him, and ducking didn't make it any better. But as Grandfather stepped closer, Tony couldn't help closing his eyes._

_When he opened them, he was in the concrete bunker in Israel, Eli David's fierce eyes replacing Grandfather's. "If you had not gone there, Rivken would be alive today," he said. "Why did you? Because you were jealous of him? Because you wanted my daughter?" He moved closer, his nose just inches from Tony's. "You will never have her. She is mine. She will do my bidding. Your Agent Gibbs does not want her now."_

_Tony opened his mouth, but nothing came out. No quips or smart-ass remarks. He forced himself to speak. "He does."_

_"No. He will leave her here and I will send her on her final mission." David stepped back. "You will never see her again."_

_Tony closed his eyes again, only to open them and find himself in Saleem's camp. The dust from the desert was heavy, and he fought to breathe. Through the haze, he could see Ziva. "You should not have come."_

_"Had to," he gasped before dust filled his lungs, triggering a coughing fit._

_"You will die because of it. You cannot undo Rivken's death. I cannot afford to trust you." She closed her eyes. "McGee will learn that too. He will learn that some damage cannot be undone."_

_Tony pulled his eyes away from her face to see Tim walking away, limping from where Saleem had kicked him._

_"No, Tim, come back...."_

Tony heard Tim calling his name, felt his hands on his shoulders. He opened his eyes to realize he was in Tim's bed.

"Tony, I'm here. I'm not leaving." Tim pulled him close.

"Tim?"

"Oh, thank god. You're awake." Tim squeezed him into a hug. "You were having a nightmare, a bad one. You were coughing and I couldn't wake you up."

Tony closed his eyes. "Yeah, it was a bad one."

"You want to talk about it?"

"No." Tony pulled the covers up and let Tim lie back, holding him close. He felt his partner's long arms wrap around him and curled into the warmth. They lay there in silence. Not until Tim began stroking his back did Tony realize he was crying. Swiping at the tears with one hand, he turned away, his back to Tim.


	15. Chapter 14

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is a pretty chunky chapter because it's from Abby's POV and she's stuck at the Navy Yard while the team is out working cases. If you want, think of the lines as the show's phoofs.

Monday morning, Abby arrived at the Navy Yard before dawn. She knew she might regret that if the team caught a case that kept her there until all hours, but her conversation with Ziva the previous week had taken up residence in her head, surfacing at the oddest moments.

How had she not noticed changes between McGee and Tony? They had been almost inseparable over the summer as they tried to find the terrorist camp, working nights and weekends to fit their investigation around the demands of the legitimate cases the MCRT had caught.

Abby knew she had strong bonds with both men, each making a connection that nobody outside the team could understand. Tony had learned to anticipate her needs and actions during his time as team leader. Just a few hours after she'd slapped another trainee sticker on his shirt the first day the trio had begun their mission, he was back in gear. Except this time, he'd retained that connection even after the mission ended. She wondered if it was because Gibbs was there throughout, allowing Tony and Abby to build the connection in his role as senior field agent, not team leader. McGee, he always knew what she was thinking and vice-versa. When they started hacking into computers and decrypting files, sometimes she thought they really did share a brain. He and Tony had never been that in tune; they were just too different. Still, they had been through a lot together while Ziva was gone.

Maybe the newest agent was right, the boys did have a connection. She'd have to watch and observe. Abby grinned. If Ziva was right, all they needed to do was bring Ziva in and the mind meld would be complete. One big MCRT brain to solve the toughest NCIS cases. At that thought, she punched the CD player on to set music blaring through the lab. She'd start her mission watching the video feed in the bullpen.

 

****

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"It's nothing, McWorry." Tony's voice was quiet, but intense. He was leaning against McGee's desk, only his profile showing.

"It's not nothing." McGee folded his arms, looking up at Tony with that stubborn face he used when he wasn't about to let something go. Abby wondered what they were arguing about.

"Geez, it's been two days already. Let it go."

"Tony."

"I'm serious, Tim."

"Yeah? Well so am I." He leaned in toward Tony. "I let it go the first time, but the coughing is new. You were deeper this time, too."

"I pulled myself out this time," Tony retorted. "I didn't need your help."

"You know, you're right. You didn't need my help." Tim pulled back and turned to face his computer screen. "And then you did need my help and wouldn't take it."

"Tim."

But McGee kept typing, ignoring Tony. After a few minutes, he walked back to his own desk. Abby watched a few minutes longer, but they worked in silence until Gibbs walked into the bullpen.

"Gear up. Dead Marine at Norfolk."

Abby killed the video feed on her monitor and went back to trying to repair the electronics on the equipment pulled from the Damocles. As she cleaned and soldered, she wondered if she should tell Gibbs what she'd heard. It sounded like Tony had another attack while he and McGee were running, and McGee was worried about it. Maybe she'd try and talk to Timmy instead. He'd probably welcome reinforcements if Tony was being stubborn.

 

****

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She didn't get her chance until late that afternoon when they returned from Norfolk, and the first one she got a minute alone with was Tony when he carried a box of bagged evidence into the lab.

"Tony!" Abby squealed, wrapping him in a hug.

"Nice to see you, too, Abs," he said. "What'd I do to deserve an Abby hug?"

She pulled back and punched him in the shoulder. "Who said you need to do anything to get a hug?"

Tony rolled his eyes. "Abs."

"Well you had that attack last week and Brad's got you coming back in this week and I haven't seen you in a few days and you're not supposed to go running alone and I'm just worried about you." She paused for a breath and Tony put a finger to her lips.

"Abs, I'm fine. Running was fine. I played basketball this weekend and didn't need to use my inhaler. Brad's just being overprotective. I think he absorbed some of the excess Papa Smurf from Gibbs when he ordered me not to die." He rolled his eyes again. "Now if I promise I'm not going to keel over, can I go back upstairs before Gibbs gets another reason to head-slap me?"

Abby frowned, but knew Tony wasn't going to budge. His smile was too big, the one that said "That's my story and I'm sticking to it." She waved a hand and turned back to her computer, mentally plotting her next move.

Her chance came not 10 minutes later when McGee popped into the lab.

"Gibbs sent me down to help decrypt the laptops we found in Lance Cpl. Walters' apartment," he said as he carried a stack enclosed in evidence bags.

"Laptops plural?"

"Three of them," he said. "That's why he wants two of us working on it."

Abby nodded. "Let me get Major Mass Spec running and then we'll kick some computer ass."

McGee laughed. "Yeah, before Gibbs kicks ours."

"Yours, Timmy. He'll just cut off my Caf-Pow supply." Abby shuddered at the thought. "I think I'd prefer the ass-kicking."

They worked in silence for a few minutes before Abby broached the topic she'd been wondering about all day. "McGee, how's Tony doing?"

"Tony? What do you mean?" He kept his eyes on the laptop screen instead of meeting hers.

"You know, his attack last week. He said he was OK when he was down here earlier, but he had this big smile on, the fake one, and I know he doesn't like to show weakness, and I'm worried about him." Abby waited for McGee to look at her and tell her everything was fine, but he didn't.

"His lungs are OK, Abs." He kept working, fingers flying over the keyboard, still not meeting her eyes. "My back's not going to be OK if I keep sleeping on the floor when he crashes at my place so we can go running in the morning, but his lungs are fine."

"Yeah, about that," Abby said. "I shouldn't have volunteered you for that. I know there's no place for you to sleep except the bed, and I know you wouldn't make Tony sleep on the floor."

"Are you kidding? I'd never hear the end of it," McGee said. "He'd spend the entire day grumbling about his back and all the knots in it."

"This is pretty serious, with Brad having him come back for more tests and see him every week." She didn't ask. She knew she didn't need to.

McGee sighed. "Tony says Brad's just being cautious. Gibbs is the one who talked to Brad. Tony had him call so Gibbs could interrogate him instead of Tony." He finally looked up from the laptop. "Abs, I know you're worried. But Gibbs and Brad aren't going to let anything happen to him."

"I know, Timmy. I know he has all of you on his six." She chewed her lower lip. "It's just..." She hesitated, knowing she shouldn't have been spying. "This morning, I had the bullpen camera turned on. You guys were arguing about an attack he had this weekend, a bad one."

"You were spying on us?" McGee glared at her.

"No. Not really. I mean..." Abby hadn't expected that strong of a reaction. She hastily backpedaled. "I was looking to see if Bossman was back from his morning visit with Vance."

McGee scrubbed his hands across his face. "So what did you hear, exactly?"

Abby thought back and recounted what she'd heard. She thought McGee would get more upset but his anger seemed to lessen the more she talked.

"Abs, it wasn't another asthma attack." He turned back to the laptop and started typing again.

"Then what was it?"

"It was just Tony being stubborn," McGee said. "You know him, so afraid we're going to treat him as badly as his so-called family that he won't show anything he thinks might be a sign of weakness."

Abby sighed. "You think Gibbs could get through to him?"

McGee shrugged. "He'd have to know there was something to get through to him about, and Tony's not going to tell him."

"You could."

McGee shook his head. "No, I couldn't. Rule 1. It might look like helping to you, but Tony would see it as me screwing him over."

Abby pressed her lips together and thought. "Can I tell him about what I saw? I won't tell him what you said, just what I saw."

As McGee sat there for endless seconds without replying, Abby wondered if she had pushed it too far. Finally, he said, "Why don't you try telling Tony what you saw. Don't mention me. Maybe he'll open up to you."

And that was all McGee would say on the subject.

 

****

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Abby tried the rest of the day to catch Tony alone, but it seemed like he was always with Gibbs or Ducky. She briefly considered asking Tony in front of the older men, but decided that would backfire. Sure, Gibbs would know something was up, but Tony would probably shut down completely.

She tried the rest of the week to catch Tony alone, but it never seemed to work. She thought about using the bullpen camera to keep an eye on him, but then remembered McGee's angry reaction. Once was explainable. More than that wasn't, and Abby knew the team would never forgive her if they thought she was spying on them. There had been too many secrets and lies during Jenny's last months at the agency. Abby didn't want to add another to the mix, even if she thought it was for a good cause. Once Thursday rolled around, she decided to see what happened after Tony's appointment with Brad that morning.


	16. Chapter 15

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Stay tuned for lots of Hurt!Tony, Papa Smurf, Dr. Ducky and McMom during the next few chapters.

"Hey, Brad. You survive anouther weekend cheering for your pathetic excuse of a football team?" Tony strolled into the doctor's office and sat down in the chair, determined to keep an even keel even if Brad had bad news for him.

"It was an ugly win, but it's still a win." Brad smiled and sat back in his chair. "So, did you pass muster with McGee's parents?"

"They even know about the plague and it didn't scare them off," Tony said, realizing what he'd said a second too late and cursing. "How..."

"Gibbs."

"Gibbs?" Tony knew his voice was too high, but the couldn't keep the panic out of it. "Gibbs knows?"

"Tony, relax." Brad walked around his desk to sit in the chair next to his. "Gibbs doesn't know. Calm down, take nice, easy breaths."

Tony dropped back in his chair, looking up at the sky. "Then how did he tell you about me and Tim if he doesn't know." A faint suspicion wiggled into his brain. "Damn it! You just played me, didn't you? How does a doc beat me at the interrogation game?"

"Lots of practice trying to get you to tell me what's wrong," Brad said. "But I wasn't trying to play you." He put a hand on Tony's shoulder. "Look, last week when I called Gibbs, he mentioned you'd crashed at McGee's place and McGee was grumbling about sleeping on the floor and his back being sore. That confused me, but I wasn't about to let Gibbs know that because you had said you hadn't told the folks at NCIS about the new girl. I thought McGee was helping you cover her up. Then when I got off the phone, I started thinking..."

"And you realized Tim wasn't covering for me, he was covering with me." Tony groaned. "I'm so screwed."

"Last time I checked, you guys were civilian. I could get in trouble for dating McGee; you can't."

Tony glared at him. "A., he's not your type. B., Gibbs's Rule 12: Never date a co-worker."

Brad winced. "I'll give you that. If I had to choose between ticking off the Navy or Gibbs, I'd take the Navy."

Tony snorted. "You think?" He straightened up. "Look, I don't mind that you know. I just ... I don't... we don't want it to get around. Tim worked it out logically that Gibbs wouldn't fire one of us over it or make us transfer or break up, but that doesn't mean I want to put that to the test, or have everybody at the Navy Yard know about it."

"I won't tell," Brad said. "And at least this way you have one person who knows that you can talk to."

"Thanks, Brad." Tony paused, wanting to tell the doctor what the offer meant to him, but not knowing how. "OK, enough about my sex life. What's the word?" Tony slouched in the chair, forcing himself to meet Brad's eyes. "You going to bench me?"

"No, Tony, I'm not going to bench you. Do you really think I want to incur the wrath of Gibbs?" The Navy doctor leaned forward over his desk. "I did find a few things in the test results I want to monitor more closely, though."

"Like?" Tony felt his gut twist and his fingers dig into the arms of the chair.

"You've got a little less movement in the lung tissues than I would like. It's not a significant decline from where you were last year, but it is the first decline since I started seeing you five years ago. Right now, the effects only show up when you're in extreme overexertion. If we can't reverse or at least halt the decline, it will take less and less exertion to reach that point."

"Bottom line it for me, Brad."

The doctor took a deep breath. "If we're using Somalia as the starting point and assume a constant rate of decline, you have four, maybe five years before you'll be unable to pass your field test."

Tony just stared at him. He knew he should be pulling out the appropriate movie line for this, but his brain had just stopped working.

"Tony?" The doctor's quiet inquiry shook something loose inside him.

"Five years?" Tony couldn't imagine it. "You mean I'm going to be washed up before I'm 45?"

Brad shook his head. "That's if we can't stop this. I think, with the right treatment, we can. We might even be able to reverse the damage, though that's less certain."

"So what's the right treatment? Does it mean I have to take leave?" Tony tried to picture what he would do without going to the Navy Yard every day.

"Tony, chill." Brad pulled out some papers. "It means you come in weekly so I can monitor your lungs. One thing we don't know is the rate of decline, which the tests will help establish. I'm going to start you on some breathing exercises today. You'll have to do them every day. I want you to keep a log of any difficulties you have with your lungs, as well as a log of your exercise and how your breathing is during and after."

Tony pulled out his notebook and started writing. "OK, got that. Anything else?"

Brad nodded. "Once we have enough test results to estimate how your lung function is changing, or if it even is changing, I'll probably start you on a drug regimen. I do a lot of work with sailors, mostly the older ones, who served on ships with asbestos. I've been testing out some drug combinations and treatments the past few years and I've finally hit on one that seems to make a significant difference with fewer side effects."

"How come you're not going to start that now?" Tony looked up from his notebook. "Isn't it better to stop this earlier?"

Brad nodded. "Yes, earlier treatment is better. But I've only used the drug therapy on sailors with lung issues stemming from asbestos, which is different than the plague. Also, they tend to be in much worse shape than you by the time I see them. Their lung function is so impaired that the improvement far outweighs the side effects. I'm not sure that's the case here." He held up his hand before Tony could speak. "Finally, we don't know yet if this is a one-time decline or a progressive change. If after several tests, I'm not seeing any additional decline, the drugs probably are overkill. I'd rather hold them in reserve rather than risk you building up resistence to them that could make them less effective down the line."

"I guess I can't argue with that." Tony shifted in his seat. "This is some pretty heavy stuff."

Brad nodded. "I know. But I also know if anybody can beat this, it's you. This is something we have some past experience with. If you could beat the plague, you can beat this." He opened a drawer in the file cabinet next to his desk. "If you want to bring McGee along to any of your appointments, feel free. Also, if you want me to talk to Dr. Mallard about this, since he's your primary doctor, you can fill out this form to give me permission. Gibbs is your medical proxy, so he's already covered."

Tony rubbed his forehead. "OK, this is starting to sound a little scary." He sighed. "First, the easy one. I'll sign the paper. I'd rather you try and explain this to Ducky than me - I'm not sure I still understand it. For the other, I'd like to bring Tim and I know he's going to want to know as much as he can. His big MIT brain needs all the data it can get. But if Tim comes along, Gibbs is going to wonder why. Running buddies isn't going to cut it."

Brad tapped his fingers on his desk. "How about this," he said after a minute. "Why don't you sign the paperwork for Dr. Mallard, Gibbs and McGee. I can meet you at the Navy Yard this afternoon and brief all three of you at the same time. Since McGee's been running with you, if anybody asks, I'll say I wanted McGee there so he knew what to look for if you have problems when you run. That's actually the truth. I'm guessing Gibbs should know that as well. Any other running buddies?"

"Ziva probably at some point, but she's at FLETC for another two weeks. I can talk to her when she gets back, since we'll have more information by then." Tony thought for a minute. "I'm OK with that. They're all going to want the details anyway."

"And I won't give you and McGee away. I might try and pull him aside after, and if I don't get a chance to, let him know he can call me at any time." Brad pulled out a business card and flipped it over to write on the back. "This is my personal cell. You both are welcome to use it."

"Thanks, Brad." Tony smiled. "Just let me know what time you'd like to come by and I'll work it out with Gibbs."

"Speaking of Gibbs, as I said, he's your medical proxy. Are you at the point with McGee of changing it to him?"

Tony just stared.

"I'm guessing that's a no."

"It's just... I hadn't... We haven't talked about that." Tony rubbed his temples. "It's not that simple either."

"Because if you change it, Gibbs will have to know and you can't not tell him who the new proxy is because you always get hurt on the job." Brad sighed. "I have to hand it to you, Tony, my day is never boring when you're around."


	17. Chapter 16

It was still early Thursday morning when McGee walked into Abby's lab, face grim.

"Hey, McGee! How's Tony doing?" Abby jumped up from her lab stool.

He shrugged. "We'll know once Brad checks him out today."

"So if there's no news, what bring you to Labby when we don't have a case?" She was worried. "Timmy, you look like you've been up for a week."

"Floor." He raised one eyebrow at her, and she felt her face flush.

"Want me to see if the sisters have an old couch you can borrow? It won't be pretty, but it's got to be better than the floor."

Tim shook his head, walked toward her office and motioned for her to follow.

Once the automatic door had closed, McGee sat on the steel table.

"So spill, Timmy. What's bothering you if it's not Tony?"

McGee hesitated. "Nothing I say will leave this room?"

"Of course not! You know you can talk to me about anything, Tim."

"Even the person I'm seeing?"

Abby nodded. "Anything!" As she watched and Tim's face stayed serious, her smile faded. "This one isn't stealing your identity or anything crazy like that, is she?"

"It's nothing like that, Abs." A faint smile crossed his lips. "This one's sane. But ... have you ever had nightmares?"

Abby nodded. "I used to have nightmares about Autopsy, couldn't even press the elevator button for that floor. That's how come Ari had Kate as a hostage instead of me. She was bringing the evidence down there because I couldn't."

Tim's eyes dropped. "I'd forgotten that." He sighed. "You told me about that on our next date, and I couldn't believe you had come that close to being a hostage."

Abby nodded, remembering. "That's about how I felt when we realized Ari shot at you before he killed Kate. Like it was a nightmare."

"Except this is a real nightmare. And I don't know what's causing it." Tim boosted himself off the table and started pacing. "Wakes up screaming, won't talk about it."

"How often is this happening?"

"It started a few weeks ago, and it's happened every night we've been together." Tim blushed, his ears turning pink.

"And how many nights would this be?" Abby raised one eyebrow. "Between staying at her place and sleeping on the floor when Tony's staying over, when was the last time you slept in your bed?"

"Not the point, Abs."

"So she's having nightmares and she won't talk about it. Maybe you just haven't been dating long enough for her to trust you?" Abby couldn't imagine anybody not trusting Timmy.

Tim shook his head. "We've been dating almost four months."

Abby raised her eyebrows. "Wait, you've been dating somebody since June and haven't breathed a word of it? You're getting sneaky, Timmy." When he didn't respond, she walked over and hugged him. "Did something happen around the time the nightmares started?"

Tim pulled away and nodded. "Yes, but we've talked about that. It's the nightmares that are the untouchable subject." He sighed. "The worst part..."

Abby pulled away so she could look in his eyes. "Timmy?"

"That's what happens."

"What?"

Tim pulled away and resumed pacing. "After the nightmares, we snuggle back together. But then ..." His voice trailed off.

"Then what? What does she do?" Abby kept her voice quiet, knowing her usual exuberance would shut Tim down.

"Pulls away. Moves to the other side of the bed, back to me." His voice was almost inaudible. "Won't talk about it."

Abby frowned. "And you can't handle being shut out and are wondering if she's the right one for you if she can't trust you to be there for her." She felt her heart crack a bit at the pained look on Tim's face as he nodded. "Tim, I don't know what you should do. But I know you have a huge heart and want somebody who is willing to accept all the love you have to give." She sucked in a breath. "Some of us can't accept that. And some of us just need some time to accept that you and your love are true and aren't going away, time to realize that as scary as your love is, life is easier to face with you by our side, giving us strength through your love. I don't know which category she falls into."

Tim interrupted. "Does it matter?"

Abby nodded. "The first kind of person, they're never going to give you what you need. The second kind, you just need to be patient. Not for too long. But enough time for those of us who didn't grow up normally to realize that people like you really exist and really want to be with us screwed-up souls." She looked right at him. "You made the right call five years ago, Tim, giving me a chance to come around and then letting me go when I couldn't give you what you needed. You'll make the right call here, too. It might not be the easy one, but it will be the right one." She smiled. "And if she doesn't realize what's she's got, let me know. I'll beat her up since you'd never hit a woman."

She was rewarded when he let out a short laugh. "Thanks, Abs. You... you really helped."

"Any time."

As Tim walked out of the lab, Abby hoped he was able to work it out. Tim was too good of a guy to not find the right person for him. She wasn't lying when she said he'd made the right decision breaking up with her. But she wasn't about to tell him she was beginning to think she had made the wrong decision back then.

 

****

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Tim tried to focus on the searches he was running on his computer for the cold case, but his eyes kept drifting to the clock in the corner of his monitor. Tony had promised to call when he got done at Bethesda, and Tim was starting to worry. He was just reaching for his phone when it rang.

"Agent McGee."

_"It's me."_

"And?" Tim knew he had to keep his tone professional with Gibbs sitting right across from him.

_"I can't go into it all now - Gibbs would never let you stay on the phone that long."_

"When?" Tim fought to keep his voice level.

_"Brad's coming by this afternoon to brief you, Gibbs and Ducky."_

Tim dropped his voice. "All of us?"

_"Gibbs is my medical proxy, Ducky's my doctor and you and Gibbs are my running buddies. Or at least that's what Brad suggested to include you without raising suspicion. If Ziva was around, he'd have her there, too, as a running buddy."_

"You told-"

_"No! I wouldn't do that Tim, not without telling you. He put together something I said last week with something Gibbs said and figured it out. Played me into admitting it. Damn sneaky Wolverine. He swears he won't tell, even came up with this way to give you a chance to ask him questions without raising suspicion."_

"OK." Tim took a deep breath. "OK."

_"Gibbs is going to glare at you in a minute. I'm on my way, be there in about 10 minutes. Dinner tonight? We can talk more then."_

"Sure." Tim hung up the phone, trying to ignore the sinking feeling in his stomach. Brad coming to brief them couldn't be good.

"Everything OK, McGee?" Gibbs looked over.

"Fine, Boss."

"DiNozzo OK on his run this morning?"

Tim sighed. "He seemed to be."

"How far?" Gibbs walked over and leaned on the edge of Tim's desk.

"Three miles." Tim rubbed his eyes. "I didn't get much sleep last night, and I didn't want to find out what you would do to me if I let Tony run more than that anyway."

"Sleeping on the floor?"

Tim nodded, glad he had that as an excuse. "I know you used to sleep under your boat, but I prefer my bed."

"Couch?"

"I'd have to rearrange my whole apartment, get rid of a bunch of stuff to make room. If it's just going to be a few weeks, it's not worth it."

"Longer?" Gibbs raised an eyebrow.

"I'm trying not to think about that." Tim felt the butterflies in his belly start flapping at hurricane speed.

"He can run with me. I've got a guest room."

"Not exactly what I'm worried about."

Gibbs tipped his head to one side. "That serious?"

"Tony can tell me as many times as he wants that Brad's being overprotective, but this is the first time I know of that he's had anything more than an annual exam with him." Tim frowned. "You really think Brad has him coming in every week because he wants to listen to Tony rag him about college football?"

"No." Gibbs' frown matched Tim's. "Anything happens, you tell me."

Before Tim could come up with an answer that wouldn't involve lying or being killed by Gibbs or Tony, the senior field agent walked out of the elevator.

"Hey, Tony," Tim said. "Brad clear you to run solo, or do I need to think about stealing Jethro's bed?"

"Thanks, McWhiner. Glad to know you care." Tony's smile looked a little forced.

"DiNozzo."

"Yes, boss. No, Brad didn't clear me." Tony stood in front of the plasma screen. "You free at 2 today?"

"Changing running buddies?"

"Brad's coming by. He wants to see you, Ducky and McGee."

"Why?"

Tony sighed. "He's not benching me, boss. But this is kind of complicated, and I don't know the answers to all the questions you're going to want to ask. Can you wait until Brad comes to ask him?" At the hint of a plea in Tony's voice, Tim's fingers curled into a fist. He glanced at the clock. Five hours before Brad showed up. He just hoped they didn't catch a case before then.


	18. Chapter 17

Tim felt a heaviness in his belly growing as the day wore on. When Tony's desk phone rang, he had to fight the bile rising in his throat.

"Gibbs, Probie, Brad's downstairs. Meet you in Autopsy?" The smile on Tony's face reassured Tim a bit. It was a real one not the big "I'm not fine but I'm not going to admit it" one he wore when things were really bad.

Tim followed Gibbs down. Ducky was sitting at his desk in autopsy, the tables empty of bodies for the moment. Tim lifted himself onto one of them, pressing his hands into the cold steel as if it would keep him from falling to pieces when Brad revealed whatever bad news he had to share. Gibbs leaned against the wall by the light box, and Ducky wheeled his chair over. It was silent until Tony and Brad walked in.

"There's no way your boys are going to win this weekend," Tony said. "You just don't have the coaching or the players this year to contend."

Tim didn't even listen to Brad's response; the easy banter shifted some of the weight off his shoulders. It might not be good news, but if it were really serious, Brad wouldn't be joking with Tony.

"My dear Dr. Pitt. How nice to see you again." Ducky stepped right in, again, releasing some weight off Tim's shoulders. He wasn't sure exactly what to say.

"Dr. Mallard, Gibbs, McGee. It's nice to see you too, and nice to get a little field trip."

"We're the Smithsonian now?" Tony rolled his eyes, and Tim felt the corners of his mouth twitch up in response.

"You saying I'm a fossil, DiNozzo?" Gibbs said.

"What!? No, Boss." Tony stammered, and Tim felt a bubble of laughter try to sneak free.

Brad didn't even try and hold his back, chuckling at the exchange. "I really need to come visit more often, not just when I'm wearing my doctor hat," he observed.

"Why exactly are you here?" Tim asked, figuring somebody needed to broach the topic. "Tony's been pretty tight-lipped, just told us we had to be here."

Gibbs walked over to stand with the group, and Tony boosted himself up on the table next to Tim, placing his hand next to Tim's so they were edge to edge. Tim slipped his little finger on top of Tony's hand for a second, acknowledging the contact.

As Brad started to outline what he had told Tony earlier that day, Tim's fingers curled around the edge of the table, knuckles white with the pressure. OK, so it wasn't as bad as he'd been imagining. But it didn't sound good, either. Questions swirled through his mind, but when Brad indicated he was done, Tim was afraid to ask, unsure if he could manage to use the tone of a co-worker, not a lover. Fortunately, Gibbs stepped into the breach.

"Field duty?"

Brad nodded. "As I said, right now, the damage isn't appreciably worse than it has been for the past five years. If somebody's drowning and there's more than one person there, I wouldn't want Tony to be the one diving in for the rescue, but that's been true all along." He leaned back against the autopsy table, facing the NCIS group. "As I've said, my concern is that over time, Tony's lungs could reach the point where he can't qualify for the field. I'd rather go a little overboard now to try and halt or reverse the damage rather than wait until it's too extensive for me to be any help."

"Yes, I quite agree." Ducky stood from his chair and walked to stand next to Brad. "How long do you expect this treatment to last?"

"I'd like to continue seeing Tony weekly at least until the spring, since we're just a few weeks away from cold and flu season." He shrugged. "I know that's going to take time, Gibbs, and I'll try and make the appointments first thing in the morning to minimize the impact on the team."

"Team's fine. Not McGee's back."

Brad smiled, and Tim breathed a sigh of relief. "Yes, Tony explained that. We talked about scheduling the appointments at the end of the day, but Tony thought it would be more difficult to get untangled from your cases."

"Even I can't argue with that," Tim said. He was about to continue when Ducky spoke up.

"Anthony, forgive me for meddling. But perhaps you might think about moving since this is going to last for several months." He raised one eyebrow.

Tim could feel Tony tense next to him. "I'd need to look for something near Probie since Brad's still not letting me run solo. He's the only one who lives in Maryland now that Ziva's in the city."

"Guest room's always available, DiNozzo."

"Thanks, Boss."

"Abby also mentioned she could find a couch I could borrow for my place," Tim said. "She said the sisters had some older ones they didn't need because the order's so much smaller than it used to be."

"No couch. Need you at 100 percent." Gibbs frowned. "No guest room?"

Tim shook his head. "It's a one-bedroom apartment, boss. I've got so much stuff, I've been thinking about finding a bigger place, but the second bedroom would end up being my workbench and computer room. I'm not even sure where I'd put a couch."

"Timothy, that's an excellent idea."

Tim and Tony just looked at each, then back at Ducky, confused.

"If you're both having to consider locating a larger domicile, perhaps you should consider finding one large enough for both of you. That would alleviate all your concerns." Ducky smiled.

"I'd worry less," Gibbs said.

"Boss, there's nothing to worry about," Tony said.

"DiNozzo."

"I don't need to have McShadow with me; I can live in my own apartment."

Tim fought to keep his face expressionless as Tony's words hit like a punch to the gut.

"Seriously, Gibbs. Just because I need a running buddy doesn't mean you guys can't ever leave me alone." Tony slipped off the table and started pacing. "You can ask Brad - it's not like I'm going to stop breathing in my sleep or anything."

"No, just have a nightmare and wake up coughing so hard you can't catch your breath, again." The words were out of Tim's mouth before he could stop them.

"Thanks, McBlabber." Tony's words cut deep, exacerbating the shame Tim felt at revealing something so personal.

"DiNozzo."

Tony walked over to the wall and banged his head lightly against it. "So I've had a nightmare or two. Not like you've never had one, Boss."

Tim winced, sure Gibbs was going to head-slap him for that one. But the former marine just stood there, glaring at Tony's back.

"Look, it's been a rough week." Tony turned around to face the other men and leaned back against the wall. "I had nightmares after the plague, so it's hardly surprising they're coming back now, especially since I didn't know what was going on. They'll go away in a few days." He pushed off the wall.

Tim started to open his mouth, but thought better of it. Tony was going to kill him as it was. Before he could do anything else, Tony spoke to him.

"Hey, McGuideDog. Can you escort Brad out of this maze while Boss and Ducky read me the riot act?" Tony grinned, the too-big grin he pasted on when he didn't want to let out his real thoughts. Tim bit back a sigh.

"Sure, Tony."

Once they were in the elevator, Tim decided Gibbs had the right idea and threw the emergency stop. "He's going to be OK, right?" Tim looked straight at Brad, but he let the worry he'd been suppressing edge into his voice.

"I'm a doctor, Tim. I've got to say all the '60 percent chance of this and 10 percent chance of that' BS. I can't offer guarantees." Brad straightened up to meet Tim's eyes. "But as Tony's friend, I can say that he has more determination than anybody I know. He isn't bionic, but he's the closest thing to it that I've ever seen. I can't promise he'll be able to stay in the field his whole career, but that's true of all of you. I can promise I'll do everything I can to keep him in the field, and I'm convinced that with his determination, my experience and all of you at his back, his lungs will be working well enough to qualify for the field until he hits mandatory retirement age. He's one stubborn SOB."

Tim laughed. "Yeah, tell me something I don't know." He quickly sobered. "Gibbs and Ducky think he's only having nightmares a couple of days a week, but he's stayed at my place pretty much every night since his attack. Has he said anything..." His voice trailed off.

Brad shook his head. "You know Tony. He hasn't said anything to me."

"I don't know if that makes me feel better or worse." Tim rubbed the back of his neck. "Gibbs might be able to get him to talk, but..."

"But you want him to be able to talk to you about it."

Tim closed his eyes. "I'm that obvious?"

"Part of what I do as a doctor is help family members adjust to the reality of the situation, Tim. You're not the first partner I've seen who was hurt because one of my patients was shutting them out. And from what little I know of Tony's history, he's been hurt a lot by people close to him. I think it would help him to talk to you, but I can't say I expect him to do it."

Tim dropped his chin to his chest, suddenly weary from the roller coaster of a day.

"Tim, you can call me at any time. Tony's a friend, not just a patient." He took a deep breath. "You don't have anybody here you can talk to who knows what Tony's going through, and even though Tony said your family's met him, I'm sure they can't understand the insanity we get into when Tony gets hurt or sick."

Tim laughed, the sound to sharp even in his own ears. "Insanity's one way to describe life with Tony." He looked away, unable to meet Brad's eyes.

"Tim, are you going to be able to handle this? This is some pretty heavy stuff, and you don't have the usual support network since your family, your NCIS family, thinks you guys are just friends." Tim forced himself to look at Brad. The doctor's gaze was steady, somehow providing its own comfort.

He nodded. "I'm good. If he keeps shutting me out, we're going to have problems, but that's something that would happen anyway. We deal with too many screwed-up people in this job for something not to trigger whatever he's keeping to himself." He rubbed the back of his neck. "Even if we can't make us work, he's still my partner and I'm on his six for this."


	19. Chapter 18

Tim was already back at his desk when Tony entered the bullpen just behind Gibbs. Not that Tony was really surprised by that — even if Tim and Brad had stopped to talk, it couldn't have taken as long as he had spent calming down Papa Smurf and Dr. Ducky. He sat behind his desk and breathed a sigh of relief. Trying to debate getting an apartment with Tim with two people who were thinking roommate, not bed mate, had taken all of Tony's skills at dissembling. When his IM pinged, he was hardly surprised. He turned down the volume on his computer before opening the message window so the pings wouldn't give away his chatting.

 **Elflord:** I called the dog walker - she's taking care of Jethro. Your place for dinner?

 **MovieBuff:** I'll pick up Italian on the way. Ribollita and chicken saltimbocca work?

 **Elflord:** Sure.

Tony wanted to reply, but he had too many questions and wasn't sure he was ready for the answers. Was Tim planning to stay? Was he mad at Tony? What did he think of Ducky's suggestion?

By the time the clock ticked around to 1700, Tony was fighting the urge to fidget. He knew Gibbs would pick up on the movement, even if it was hidden behind the desk, and he didn't want the team leader asking questions Tony didn't have an answer for. As soon as Gibbs gave them the nod, Tony was out the door. Once he was outside the building, he called in the dinner order.

By the time he made it back to his apartment, Tim's car was parked outside. But when Tony walked in the apartment door, Tim wasn't in the living room. His kit was next to the sofa, the jacket he'd worn to work lying on the arm of the sofa and the collar of his dress shirt peeking out from the unzipped bag. Tony placed the food on the kitchen counter and walked back to the bedroom. He found Tim standing in the doorway, looking in. He was wearing a gray T-shirt, probably his NCIS one, and jeans, his feet bare.

"Measuring the furniture for apartment hunting?" he quipped. But when Tim turned to face him, the younger man's face was drawn and weary. "Timmy?" Tony reached his hand to rest it on Tim's shoulder. "Are you OK?"

"Isn't that my line?" Tim said, his voice too quiet.

Tony shrugged, unsure of what to say. The last time he'd seen Tim like this was after he'd killed Benedict. "Only if I also look like death warmed over." He tugged Tim's arm. "Come on, dinner's going to get cold."

Tim followed him wordlessly. Tony opened his mouth to try and kid Tim out of his gloom, but still didn't know what to say. He settled for setting out plates and bowls for the food. He'd thought Tim would open a bottle of wine, but instead his partner poured water from the pitcher Tony kept in the refrigerator.

They settled in at the table. Tim still was quiet, but Tony had at least figured out what to say. "Tim, I'm sorry I couldn't fill you in this morning. I just... it's so freakin' complicated and..."

A faint smile crossed Tim's face. "No, you were right. Gibbs would have head-slapped me into the Potomac if we'd stayed on the phone that long, and there wasn't any place private enough in the building." He sighed. "It's not that. I mean, yes, I'm worried. Brad told me, when I was walking him out, that he knows as certainly as he can that you're going to beat this. It's just..."

"Juggling this and work and keeping everybody from finding out about us is going to be..."

Tim nodded. "Exactly." He took a deep breath. "I want... I want to protect you. And I want to go back to when I thought you were the invincible senior field agent, the one who could defy Gibbs and come out alive because as crazy as whatever it was sounded, you made it work." He squeezed his eyes shut as Tony reached over to take his hand. "I want to not have to lie about sleeping on the floor, but I'm not sure..."

"If you want us to share an apartment?"

Tim just nodded. "I'd been thinking about suggesting it ... before ... but I didn't know if you were ready, and then when Ducky suggested it today you got all tense. And-" Tony cut him off by increasing the pressure on his hand.

Tony gripped Tim's hand until sea-glass eyes rose to meet emerald. "Tim, do you know why I tensed up when Ducky suggested it?"

Tim shook his head.

"When Jeanne and I... Her apartment was going condo, so she suggested we rent an apartment together. I wasn't sure, but she talked me into it. Then she called to say we were looking at a house for sale that Saturday." He took a deep breath. "It was too much, too fast, and it scared the shit out of me. Even without the undercover deception, I just wasn't ready."

"And you're still not." Tim's voice was flat.

"No, Tim." Tony thought about what Tim had just said and knew he could afford to be honest, knew Tim would be glad to hear what he was willing to say for the first time. "I tensed up because when Ducky suggested it, all I could think was that he'd given us the perfect excuse to live together without Gibbs starting to wonder about us. It was the opposite reaction of when Jeanne suggested we live together, and that's when I knew it was the right decision." He held Tim's gaze. "I realized I want us, Tim. At work, at home. Everywhere."

Tim looked at him for long seconds, silent. "Everywhere?" Disbelief filled his voice.

Tony just nodded, a smile spreading across his face. "Everywhere."

"So when you wake up coughing after your nightmare tonight, you're going to tell me what's bothering you? You're going to let me hold you, keep you safe? You're going to let me in?" Tim stared at him, raising one eyebrow the way he always did when he didn't believe something.

Tony opened his mouth to speak, but he couldn't seem to form words. He always could dodge the truth with Jeanne, even if it left him feeling dirty inside. But the easy, mostly honest answer wouldn't come out. Instead, he found himself speaking the truth. "I don't know. I want to, but I just... I can't."

Tim yanked his hand away and stood, pacing. "You won't share that, but you want to share an apartment, share a life? You can't share whatever is waking you up in the middle of the night. If you can't trust me with that, how can you be ready to move in together?" The anger in Tim's voice cut almost as deeply as his words.

"Tim, I..." He stood and walked over to his partner, placing a hand on his back.

"Tony, I can't do this." Tim pulled away. "I know you had it rough as a kid, probably worse than anything I've imagined. I know you don't like to share, even more so than Gibbs." He turned to face Tony. "But I also know I can't keep giving all of me when you're holding a piece back. And that's what would happen if we moved in together. You'd have all of me."

Tony suddenly knew what the cliche of having his heart in his throat meant. "You're not... You aren't..." He sucked in a deep breath and tried again, his voice barely above a whisper. "Ending it?"

Tim shook his head. "I'm not. But... Tony, I can't do this forever. I can wait, if you think time will change things. I won't wait forever - just ask Abby - but I will give you time if that's what you need. But if you're never going to be able to tell me, I can't..." He turned away, going to stand by the window and look out at the night sky.

Tony stared at his back for a minute before walking over, putting his hands on Tim's shoulders as he stood behind the younger man, sliding his hands down Tim's arms and pulling him close. He whispered in Tim's ear. "Please, wait. I want to tell you. I just... I can't yet."

"But soon?"

"Soon. I just... I've never had anybody I could trust like you in my life. I know, in my head, that I can trust you with my nightmares. But at 3 a.m., I'm not thinking with my head. I'm just feeling, and I've been feeling like I can't trust anybody to know me, know the real me, for a lot longer than I've felt like I could trust you."

Tim moved his arms to wrap around Tony's, pulling the older man closer to his back. "I can handle soon."

"Do you want to stay tonight, give me a chance to work on not pulling away after tonight's nightmare?" Tony held his breath waiting for the answer, and was glad he had. Tim's voice was so soft, it was barely audible.

"Yes."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Can I just say that I'm amused by how many people thought Tony was going to be the one having issues with the idea the boys should move in together. :)


	20. Chapter 19

Tony's declaration of trust was never put to the test. The men slept deeply, neither waking until their cell phone alarms went off the next morning. After a few fumbles, since they almost always spent the night at Tim's so Jethro wasn't alone, they managed to shower and dress without getting in each others' way.

"You realize Gibbs and Ducky are going to be talking to you about the apartment idea today?" Tony said as Tim checked to make sure everything was in his kit.

"They aren't going to let it go, are they?"

Tony shook his head. "Not a chance." He frowned. "I think they would stop pushing if they knew the truth..."

"But we don't dare tell them." Tim finished the thought. "I know I argued that Gibbs wouldn't kill us if he found out we were breaking Rule 12, but I don't really want to put that one to the test, at least not now."

"Tell me about it," Tony said. "I don't want to give Vance any excuses to break the team up. I'm still not his favorite agent, and when he hears about Brad's visit yesterday, I half-expect him to try and bench me."

"Gibbs won't let him. He might be overprotective, but he trusts Brad and Brad said you can stay in the field." Tim picked up his bag. "Come on, or we're going to be late."

"You want to get the coffee and I'll get the burritos?" Tony said.

"Sure."

Tim made it to the Navy Yard first, but not by much. Gibbs wasn't there, but his desk light was on. Tony was just a few minutes behind him. Tim had just taken a bite of his burrito when Abby called him down to the lab.

Ducky was waiting there with the forensic scientist. "Good morning, Timothy."

"Morning, Ducky, Abs. You didn't call me down here to tell me about evidence, did you?" Tim knew the question was rhetorical.

"No, Timmy." Abby hugged him hard, avoiding the burrito in his hand. "Duckman told me about Tony, and I think he's right. You guys should find an apartment together. Tony needs somebody around in case he does something stupid, and you can use somebody else to watch Jethro."

Tim rolled his eyes. "Abs, the only time Jethro needs extra attention is when I'm stuck here. Having Tony as a roommate won't make a difference. He'll be stuck here, too."

"Timothy does have an excellent point, Abigail." Ducky nodded. "Still, I do believe you boys should seriously consider this. Just look at the difference in you today. One night back in your own bed instead of on the floor and you look 10 years younger."

Tim snorted. "When Sarah and I went out a few weeks ago, I got carded and she didn't. I'm not sure looking 10 years younger is a good thing."

"Timmy."

"OK, OK. Yes, I did sleep better last night. And it does make sense for Tony to move closer to me since Brad won't let him run alone and he's going to Bethesda every week until spring. But that doesn't mean we need to share an apartment." Tim frowned. He really didn't want to have this discussion.

"But you-" Abby's words were interrupted by the ring of Tim's phone.

_"Dead sailor at Pax River. DiNozzo's got your gear. Gas the truck."_

"Gotta go, guys. We've got a case." He rushed out of the lab to the garage.

 

****

\-------------------

The case kept them at the Navy Yard until the early hours of the morning, but when they left, everything was wrapped up but the paperwork. Tim made plans with Tony for an evening run the next day, followed by dinner, then headed home. He set his alarm for 0900, and went right to bed.

Jethro had other ideas, though, after not seeing Tim for two days, and he found himself pinned under 85 furry pounds at 0730, light filtering through the blinds he'd forgotten to draw.

"OK, OK. I'm up. Just give me a minute," Tim said, wrestling the German shepherd off of him. By the time he'd taken Jethro for a long walk, it was time to leave. The morning chill had burned off and it was one of those beautiful Indian summer days, the sky an expanse of bright blue, just a few trails of cloudy fluffiness streaking across. Tim put the top down as he headed for Annapolis.

His mother was out at her basketball game when he arrived, but his dad was waiting on the porch.

"So what's so important you couldn't talk over the phone?" his dad said as Tim joined him on the front porch.

Tim dropped into the other chair and settled back. "I'm not even sure where to start."

"Are you and Tony having problems?"

"Yes. No. Maybe."

"Well, those would be your only options." Tim looked over to see his dad smiling. "You boys seemed fine last weekend. What happened?"

"You remember how we told you Tony had the plague a few years ago?" When his dad nodded, Tim went on. "Well, he's had some issues in the past few weeks and Brad, his doctor, has him going to Bethesda weekly until the spring for testing and treatment."

"That sounds serious." His dad leaned forward in the chair, resting his elbows on his knees.

"Brad says it's not really. He just wants to keep a close eye on Tony until he can get a handle on what's happening and tweak the treatment. But with cold and flu season coming up, he wants to monitor him until the spring because he's a lot more susceptible to respiratory infections since the plague."

His dad nodded. "That's why you didn't want him to sit next to me last weekend, with this damned cold I've been fighting."

Tim looked over, momentarily distracted. "You're still fighting it? Last week you said you'd already had it for a couple of weeks."

"Relax, Tim. It's not that bad. Just doesn't seem to want to go away. But I'm fine. You haven't heard me cough since you've been here, have you?" His dad straightened up and looked him in the eye. "So what's the problem? Are you scared something's going to happen to Tony?"

"I'm scared..." Tim got up to stand at the porch railing, looking out over the yard. "I'm scared that he's pushing me away. He's been having nightmares, and he won't talk about them. Pulls away from me afterward." One hand reached back to massage the back of his neck. "Everybody knows Tony's been staying at my place the night before his appointments at Bethesda, since I live a lot closer. He's also not supposed to run alone after he had the first attack, at least until Brad's sure he's got everything under control. We've been making everybody think that I sleep in my sleeping bag when he stays over. It's also been a good way to explain why I'm so tired, since I can't get back to sleep after his nightmares. Yesterday, Brad came to the Navy Yard to tell us what was going on with Tony. When they heard how long this was going to be, Gibbs and Ducky suggested Tony and I get an apartment together so I didn't have to sleep on the floor." When his dad didn't say anything, he turned to face him.

"What's got you worried, son? That you aren't ready to move in with him, or that you are?" His dad motioned for him to sit down, and Tim did.

He rolled his shoulders, thinking about the question. "Both, I guess. It's really the nightmares, or his reaction to them."

Tim's dad nodded. "You think he doesn't trust you."

Tim nodded back. "He said last night he knows he can trust me, he just hasn't had that before and he doesn't always remember it." Tim drew in a deep breath. "Tony's family... He doesn't say much about them. What he does have to say isn't particularly good. His dad never even showed up when he had the plague. Gibbs is more his dad than his father is. He told me one time..." Tim faltered, then went on. "We, the team, are his family, as far as he's concerned. All the things we've done, all the times you and Mom were there for us growing up, he doesn't know any of that."

"Was it just neglect, or was he abused?" His dad got that intense look, the one that reminded Tim of Gibbs' glare.

"Dad, I really don't know. I'm sure there was some verbal abuse, but I don't know about physical. He doesn't seem bothered when Gibbs head-slaps him, but he also trusts Gibbs with his life."

"Trusts Gibbs, but not you? Is that the problem?"

Tim straightened up. "What? Where'd that come from?"

His dad shrugged. "From what you say, Gibbs is Tony's dad in everything but blood. You're here talking to me. Makes sense that Tony might tell Gibbs some things he can't talk to you about, for the same reason."

"No. Gibbs didn't even know about the nightmares until I blurted something out when Brad was talking to us." Tim shook his head. "If Tony was talking to him, I might feel better. At least he'd be talking to somebody. He's not saying a word to anybody. Not me, not Gibbs, not Abby."

"How is Abby? As I remember, she was always very ... exuberant about her feelings for everybody."

Tim laughed. "That's one way to put it." He shook his head. "She and Ducky tag-teamed me yesterday about becoming roommates with Tony. I don't think she knows about the nightmares, though. She hasn't said anything, and she would. She wasn't there when Brad was briefing us, just Gibbs, Ducky and me. Brad said I needed to be there as Tony's running buddy."

"Tim, think about what you said."

"About being Tony's running buddy?"

"No, about the nightmares."

"Gibbs doesn't know, and Abby doesn't know." Tim thought for a second. "But I only know because I've been there. It's not like Tony's talked about them. If Tony was staying in Gibbs' guest room, he'd know about them."

His dad placed a hand on Tim's shoulder, the weight warmly reassuring. "And if he isn't talking to the person he trust most in the world, the man who's like a father to him?"

Tim reached behind his head to slap himself, since Gibbs wasn't there to do it for him. "He's not keeping it from me because he doesn't trust me. He's keeping it because he can't talk about it. Sometimes I can be a real idiot about people."

"Not an idiot. You just come from a different place than Tony does." Tim's dad stood. "Come on, let's get some lunch. Maybe we can figure out a way to get Tony to talk to somebody."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> True story: A club in my college town was going to let my sister in at 16 without even checking her ID, but gave me the under-21 mark, also without asking for ID. 10 years later, I was still getting mistaken for a college student (a senior at the local college asked me if I was one of the new freshmen), and I'm not nearly as baby-faced as McGee. After his comment about Sarah's fake ID in Twisted Sister, I couldn't resist riffing off of it.


	21. Chapter 20

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yet another dialogue-heavy chapter, and a little off the main plot. But the whole team has been through a lot in the past several months, and talk therapy, even within the team, seems to be what they need to come to grips with everything since all the threads are interwoven. I promise, there will be some more action down the line. This story has just gotten a little more complicated since I started it. Darn plot bunnies!

A week later, Ziva walked into the bullpen at 0500 on her first day back from FLETC. At first, all she could do was laugh. Abby had resurrected the tiki hut decorations she had used on McGee's desk last year when he and Gibbs were in LA, festooning her desk in palm trees and flowers. The newest NCIS agent dropped her gear behind the desk and went down to the lab to see if Abby was in yet.

As soon the elevator doors opened at the basement level, Ziva could hear Abby's music blasting. Despite the noise, the forensic scientist whirled around in her chair as soon as Ziva walked in.

"You're back! Bossman said you graduated top of your class, and the instructors said you were one of the best students they'd ever had come through FLETC." Ziva found herself enveloped in a black and red blur of Goth, and she hugged Abby tightly in return.

"Yes, Abby, I am back. I very much appreciate the decorations on my desk." She paused. "I know you decorated McGee's desk the same way last year, and I know how good of a friend he is to you. It means a great deal that you did this."

Abby tightened her grip for a minute, then released Ziva. "So how was it? Was it hard?"

Ziva smiled as she leaned against the evidence table. "When the instructors complimented me, I told them they should be directing their words toward Gibbs. I knew I had learned a great deal working on this team, but I did not realize just how much I had learned until these past few weeks."

"You should tell him," Abby said. "He'll act like it doesn't matter, that he knows he's the best in the world at training good agents, but you still should tell him. He could use some good news."

Ziva felt her stomach sink. "Why? What has happened? He did not get hurt on a case?"

"No, no, no. He's just worried about Tony."

"I thought Ducky said it was just a slight case of asthma. Do not tell me Dr. Pitt found something more serious."

Abby sighed. "He's got Tony coming in weekly for tests until April, and he came in last week to discuss everything with Gibbs, Duckman and Timmy. They haven't told me everything, but they've told me enough."

Ziva forced herself to swallow. "That does not sound good. Is Tony on medical leave?"

Abby shook her head, pigtails whipping through the air. "No. They're all saying Brad's just being overcautious. I think they're telling the truth. Gibbs would be like a mother bear if something were really wrong, and he's not quite that bad. He's spending as much time trying to talk Timmy into getting a couch since he refuses to be Tony's roommate as he is worrying about Tony."

"I do not understand." Ziva listened as Abby explained.

"Timmy's being stubborn," Abby said as she finished. "He and Tony aren't fighting exactly, but there's something there. Oh, and you were right!"

"What was I right about?"

"Timmy and Tony. They did do the whole mind-meld thing. It's pretty cool to watch. It's like Tony has some of Timmy's grounding and Timmy has Tony's confidence. You totally need to figure out how they did it so the whole team can be connected. Gibbs already has the best team in the entire agency, but if you all shared a single brain, just think how cool that would be!" Abby bounced up and down.

"Abby, how many Caf-Pows have you had this morning?"

"Just two, but it's still early. Bossman will be in by 0700 with another one." She took a sip from the giant red cup. "So will you help us talk Timmy and Tony into living together?"

Ziva opened her mouth to answer, then closed it as everything she'd heard started to click into place. "Abby, you are calling McGee Timmy."

"I always call him Timmy," she said.

"No, you do not." Ziva thought back. "You call him McGee. Once or twice, when things are serious, you call him Tim. But I have only heard you call him Timmy when you are trying to talk him into something or when you are thinking of him as more than a co-worker."

"He is more than a co-worker," Abby insisted. "We're best friends. We can tell each other everything."

Ziva just looked at her.

"OK, so I might be thinking of him in a little more than friendly way, but that's all your fault."

"My fault?"

"You totally got me looking at him and Tony while you were gone, and I realized how much he's changed since we broke up." Abby smiled, her eyes going dreamy. "He was always a sweetheart, but he was like a puppy, all innocent and trusting. Life was simple for him. He'd find some nice woman, settle down, raise a couple of kids in a house with a picket fence. He thought I could be that woman, and I knew I couldn't."

"So you ended it?" Ziva was curious to learn more. She knew something had gone on between her co-workers back before she joined the team; one reading of "Deep Six" had told her that. But she had never learned any details beyond what Abby had said the day she left for FLETC.

"No, he did. I didn't fight him, though." She sighed. "I've been watching, and Tim's different. Not in a not-him way, but he's totally grown up since he's been on the team. I told him he was insecure when we were dating before, after he asked me where it was going. It was cute, but I knew it wouldn't work long-term because of it, and he didn't want short-term. He's not insecure now."

Ziva nodded. "No, he is not. I remember... My first year on the team. When McGee thought he shot Benedict." As Abby nodded, Ziva continued. "I doubted him, thought he had panicked. I said that to Gibbs. He said..." She took a deep breath. "He told me McGee was not my father and he was not Ari. He said McGee did not know how to lie." Ziva wrapped her arms around herself. "He was right. McGee is a good soul. I think now he could lie if he had to. It would hurt him, and he would not do it unless it was important. But he has learned that the world is not so simple, and the truth is not always the right thing to say."

Abby reached over and folded her into a gentle hug, like the one with which she had welcomed her back from Somalia. After a minute, Ziva pulled away. "Abby, are you thinking of asking him to date again?"

Abby turned away. "No, he's dating somebody." Her tone was hurt. "He didn't tell me about her until the other day, but they've been dating for a while."

Ziva nodded, her lips curving in a small smile. "But if he were not, you would want to date him?"

Abby just nodded.

"Abby, I know we have different approaches to faith." She reached for the Star of David necklace that had sat around her neck until Saleem ripped it off earlier in the year. Her fingers rubbed the skin at the base of her throat instead. "But I believe that if we are honest with ourselves, if we are true to our code when we act, whether that code is religious or something more akin to Gibbs' rules, we will end up where we are supposed to be. If you and McGee are meant to be together, you will reach that point. You must just be patient."

"Yeah, because I'm so patient," Abby said. "I know I always preach patience to Bossman when he's waiting for me to go through evidence, but I can't stand waiting."

"Yes, waiting is difficult," Ziva said. "When I was ... gone ... that was the most difficult part. Waiting for Saleem and his men to kill me. I knew it would happen. I was ready for it. I was not ready for Tony and McGee to rescue me." She turned away, unable to look at Abby. "I could not believe they would risk their lives for me. I ... McGee is not the only one who is not like my father or like Ari. When Vance sent me back to Israel on his mole hunt, I was back in Mossad. I started to forget what I had learned here. I forgot who I could trust. And I forgot who I could not trust." She let out a shaky breath and looked down to the ground. "I saw Tony in that chair, and I knew he was going to die. I knew McGee would die too, and it was my fault. I knew Ari died because of me. Kate died because of me. Michael died because of me. Staff Sgt. Daniel Cryer died because of me. And sitting in the room with the sun in my eyes, I knew I would have two more deaths on my conscience. I was not until Gibbs met us, and told us we were going home, that I began to believe that I had not killed Tony and McGee."

"You totally didn't kill them," Abby said, coming around to face her. "And you know we would have died for you. You're family, Ziva. Tony risked his lungs diving in to save Gibbs and Maddie when their car went into the water. He's not going to do that, then turn around and refuse to rescue you because it's going to damage his lungs."

Ziva jerked her head up. "What do you mean?"

Abby chewed her lower lip and looked down. "Nothing."

"Abby, what you said is not nothing. Did Tony hurt himself in Somalia?" Ziva reached out and placed her hands on Abby's arms. "Why did nobody tell me?"

"We didn't know." Abby's voice was barely audible. "We don't know. But Brad thinks the dust or something else at the camp in Somalia might be what triggered the changes that led to the attack."

 _"Ben zona,"_ Ziva muttered. "It is my fault."

"No!" Abby grabbed her arms. "It is not your fault. That bitch Hannah Lowell gave Tony the plague. Your father and Ben-Gidon sent you into Somalia on a suicide mission. Saleem tried to kill you. You didn't do anything."

Ziva's voice was soft. "I made Gibbs choose."

"Choose?"

"I did not choose to stay behind in Israel after Michael died. I told Gibbs... I told him that it would be best if either Tony or I transferred to another team. I made him choose between us. He chose correctly. I had forgotten who I could trust. But if I had not forced him to make that choice, Tony would not have gotten sick and you and Ducky would not be trying to convince McGee to rearrange his life for Tony." She looked at Abby, and did not know what it mean that the bubbly Goth was silent.


	22. Chapter 21

When Ziva walked back upstairs, the bullpen was full.

"Welcome back, Zee-vah," Tony said.

"We're glad you're back," McGee said. "Not that you couldn't tell after seeing your desk."

Gibbs just nodded once and gave her a half-smile.

"It is good to be back," she said. "While some of the background was helpful, I found the practical tests simple after being on this team for so long."

Tim and Tony laughed.

"Yeah, maybe they should just have Gibbs train the new recruits," Tony said. "If they survived the process, NCIS would have the best agents in the ARMFED."

"Of course, there would only be two of them instead of the 20 that usually graduate," Tim retorted.

"Two? In 15 years as team leader, only six of us have stuck with Gibbs more than a few months." Tony smirked.

Ziva made sure she was out of head-slap range before replying. "Six? I know about us, Kate and Jenny."

"Stan Burley." Tony smirked again. "Or Steve. He said Gibbs didn't learn his first name until his third year on the team. He lasted five."

"DiNozzo."

"That's what he said, Boss."

Gibbs just shook his head. "Now that you've gotten them all wound up, _Agent David,_ why don't you take them down to the gym for sparring practice."

"Shutting up, Boss." Tim and Tony spoke in unison.

"Help Ziva dismantle that, that, _thing._ " Gibbs grabbed his coffee and walked off, headed for Vance's office.

The three teammates had everything stowed before Gibbs returned 15 minutes later.

 

"McGee. Help Abby."

"On it, Boss.

That done, Gibbs tossed his coffee cup and headed for the elevator. When Tony hit the head a few minutes later, Ziva was right behind him. She waited outside for a few minutes before walking in and locking the door, just as Tony finished washing his hands.

"Why do you always corner me in the head?" He dried his hands and tossed the paper towel in the trash.

"It is private."

At Tony's raised eyebrows, Ziva opened her mouth, then closed it, suddenly unsure of what to say.

"Spit it out, Zee."

"I am sorry."

"For what? Gibbs wasn't really going to make us spar with you." He smiled.

"No. Abby... Abby told me about your illness. That it happened in Somalia." She bit her lip. "You came to rescue me, risked your life, and I do not deserve that. You did not deserve to get sick because of it."

Tony reached for her face and tipped her chin up. She wanted to look away from the green eyes, but couldn't.

"Ziva, you don't have to apologize. Look, my lungs were screwed up long before you got here."

"It was just two weeks before Ari killed Kate."

Tony sighed. "Well, it seemed like longer. A week in Bethesda feels like months."

"But you still should not have risked it."

"Ziva, you're family. I'm Italian. We don't forget family. And before you start arguing, if I hadn't suggested it, Tim or Gibbs would have. Abby would have. Hell, even Vance wanted to get you back badly enough to endorse the hair-brained plan." Tony put his hands on her upper arms, rubbing them up and down. "You're back now, and that's what matters. You went through hell out there. Me having to go to the doctor for something that would have been inevitable anyway doesn't come close to what you went through."

"It was my fault."

"Your father sent you. Ben-Gidon didn't stop you when you had to go alone. If I want to blame somebody, I'll blame them."

"If I had not stayed in Israel after Michael's death--"

Tony cut her off. "You didn't kill him, I did. You can't blame yourself for that. I... I let my emotions cloud my judgment then."

Ziva could only look at him.

"Not like that!" Tony rushed on. "I was worried, afraid that Rivken could have gotten them killed in LA."

"I did not mean..." Ziva huffed out a breath, wondering why this was so hard. "I know it was not like that. That was my error, not yours. If I had trusted you..."

"Don't go there." Tony pulled away from her. "We've been over this. You couldn't afford to trust me. I know that. I know it wasn't true, but after Ari, your father, Rivken, Ben-Gidon... I know what it's like to be afraid to trust."

"You are right not to trust me."

Tony whirled back to face her. "Not you. I trust you Ziva. I trust you with my life."

"You should not."

"Dammit, I'd have to go through all this human guinea pig stuff with Brad at some point anyway, Somalia or no Somalia."

"This is not about Somalia."

When Tony just looked at her, she continued. "Gibbs did not tell you."

"Tell me what?"

"I did not choose to stay in Israel."

"Your father?" Tony was good, but Ziva could hear the surprise in his voice.

"No." She took a deep breath. "I made Gibbs choose. I told him..." She reached for her missing necklace, wishing for the strength it had always provided. "I told him it would be best of one of us transferred, that I did not know if we could work together." Ziva forced herself to look Tony in the eye. "He made the right choice, and he left me there."

The small room was silent for long moments as Tony looked at Ziva. She wanted to look away, but her years of Mossad training would not allow that.

"You didn't know who you could trust." His voice was quiet.

"No, I did not. And I did not remember who I could not trust."

"You do now." It was a statement, not a question.

"You are right. I know I can trust my family. You, Gibbs, McGee. Abby, Ducky and Jimmy. I can trust you." She thought back over her years at NCIS. "I trust you with my life every day, each of you. You would die for me."

"Have to," Tony said. "After Cassidy's team was blown up, I asked Gibbs about it. We were supposed to be on that day. It was supposed to be us. Do you know what he said?"

Ziva shook her head.

"He agreed. Reminded me that sometimes it has been us. It could be us 'any damn day of the week' and if I wanted to worry about something, worry about tomorrow." Tony rubbed the back of his head, running his fingers through his hair. "We can't do what we do without trusting each other more than anybody else in our lives. I figure that's why the boss has been married so many times. They can't understand how he gives co-workers more trust than he gives them."

Ziva nodded. "This is not a career that is kind to families. Have you noticed that we all are single? I sometimes think that it is not possible to be an agent and have a family."

"Cops have families." Tony's tone was suddenly fierce. "Agents can, too. Maybe not agents like you or me, but some can."

"Such as McGee?" Ziva thought about her discussion with Abby. "Can you not see him and Abby one day with children, calling us Uncle Tony and Aunt Ziva? Perhaps asking for Papa Gibbs?"

"Yeah, Probie's a real family man, all right. He'd be a great dad." Tony's face went blank as he walked around her and left the bathroom. Ziva just stared after him.


	23. Chapter 22

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A friend posted a Mr. Rogers quote on Facebook yesterday that I thought was the perfect commentary on the differences between Tony and Tim and what drives them. "Knowing that we can be loved exactly as we are gives us all the best opportunity for growing into the healthiest of people." ~ Fred Rogers
> 
> If this story is a garden, so far we've tilled the ground and sown a lot of seeds. Now the seeds need to grow for a while. The next several chapters won't be boring (if they are, please head slap me in reviews), but by the time the fruit starts ripening, it's going to be like the Gibblets watching the train wreck coming in the Ex-Files ep and not being able to stop it or look away.

Tim spent most of the day in Abby's lab helping her clean and repair the electronics salvaged from the Damocles. Three soldering iron burns and a couple of cuts later, he was ready to pack it in. Tony had his weekly appointment with Brad in the morning, so he'd be staying over. As Tim left the Navy Yard, he mentally inventoried his kitchen to figure out what to make for dinner. He thought he had everything he needed for one of the pasta dishes Tony had taught him how to cook.

But when he walked in the apartment, it already was filled with enticing aromas. As he patted his furry welcoming committee, Tony leaned out from the kitchen.

"Good timing. The garlic bread will be done soon."

"How did you have time to get all of this done?" Tim managed to free himself from Jethro and drop his gear in the corner next to Tony's.

"Gibbs let me leave early, since things were quiet."

Tim looked over. "Did he forget you're coming in late tomorrow, or did Vance replace him with a pod person?"

As Tony started laughing, Jethro ran to him to see what was so exciting. "Neither, as far as I know. We're on call this weekend, so maybe he figured since there was nothing going on, I might as well take some time while I can get it. He head slapped me four times today, so it's not like he's being generally nice."

Tim shrugged. "I'm not going to argue, even if you're the only one who got out early." He walked into the bedroom to change out of his work clothes.

"What kept you and Abs busy all day, anyway? We don't have any active cases." Tony was stirring the simmering pan on the stove when Tim re-entered the kitchen.

"Damocles electronics. There was so much on that ship, we're still only halfway through repairing and cleaning it, let alone getting anything off of it." Tim looked over Tony's shoulder. "Mmmm, my favorite."

Tony turned to meet his eyes. "I know." He waggled his eyebrows. "Figured I ought to do something to make up for all the creative excuses you're having to come up with to keep Ducky and Abby from realizing why we aren't out apartment hunting."

"When they team up, they're almost worse than Gibbs." Tim rolled his eyes. "At least he's leaving me alone."

"Yeah, to focus on me." Tony dipped a fork into the pan, spearing a chunk of chicken. As he cut it to see if it was cooked through, he sighed. "Now that Ziva's back, she's sure to join him. She blames herself."

Tim straightened up. "Why?"

"I guess Abby must have mentioned that Brad thinks Somalia was the trigger." Tony turned off the burner and started dishing out the meal onto plates. "Can you get the drinks?" As Tim moved to get the wine glasses, Tony continued, "She blames herself for us going to save her."

"She thought we were just going to let her disappear, not try and find her or take out the man who killed her?" Tim shook his head. "I know we're not Marines, but she knows Gibbs. What part of Semper Fi did she think we were going to ignore?"

As they sat down to eat, Tony was silent.

"Tony?" Tim put his hand on the other man's shoulder.

"She didn't decide to stay in Israel. He left her there."

Tim tightened his grip. "He what?"

"She told me today. On the tarmac, she told him she didn't know if she and I could work together and asked for one of us to be transferred. So he left her in Israel." Tony mixed the chicken dish with the pasta on his plate to coat the shells in sauce. "She said it was the right decision because she had forgotten who she could trust. She doesn't blame him for it."

"Do you?" Tim was still trying to adjust to the new information.

"Her father didn't want her to stay with NCIS anyway, and Vance wouldn't have had an argument against him recalling her if she wasn't on our team. I can't see Gibbs transferring me to another team and keeping her," Tony said, absently forking some of his meal. After he finished chewing, he said, "I've been thinking about it all day, and I don't think either of them had another choice. After what I did to Rivken..."

"You didn't do anything wrong with Rivken," Tim said. "Even if your motivation was protecting me, after what we learned from Ben-Gidon, it would have ended the same way or worse no matter what you did or didn't do."

"I know, Tim." Tony looked at him. "You've told me, Gibbs has told me. Even Ziva said the same thing today."

"Do you believe it?"

"Yes, McShrink." Tony smiled, taking away the sting. "Now eat your dinner while it's still hot."

As Tim washed the dishes afterward, Tony prowled the living room before settling in front of the bookshelf filled with framed family photos. He was still there when Tim dried the last dish and joined him. "You've seen those photos a million times before, Tony. You're not going to find anything new to embarrass me with."

"Huh?" Tony jerked his head. "What? Oh, no. Wasn't looking for that. Besides, I don't think the others would buy me being that nosy, and if they found out we were seeing each other, we'd never get them off our case about the apartment."

Tim wrapped his arms around Tony's shoulders. "Good point. Gibbs would tell us if we aren't serious enough to live together, we shouldn't be breaking Rule 12, and Ducky would have us in Autopsy for counseling the way he did with you and Kate that one time." He could feel Tony shaking from suppressed laughter, so he went on. "Ziva would offer me training in torturing you with office supplies, and Abby..."

"...would want to watch," they said in unison.

When they finished their fit of the giggles, Tim pulled away. "As much as I hate to admit it, I really do need someplace other than the bed where we can sit together."

Tony looked around. "And you're going to put it where?"

"I didn't say I had all the answers, did I?" Tim walked to the other side of the bookshelves where his writing desk was. "My workbench won't fit back here, and I use it too much to take it down. I really need more space."

"I hate to say this..." Tony looked through a gap in the shelves.

"Not like that's stopped you before," Tim retorted.

"Maybe we should think about being roommates."

Tim sighed. "I don't know, Tony. That's a big step."

"No, actual roommates. With separate bedrooms." He straightened up, just missing bumping his head on the bookcase. "You do need more space, and I need to find a place closer to Bethesda. So we look for a bigger apartment, two or three bedrooms. We each have our own space."

Tim thought about it for a minute. "That would get everybody off our case."

"You could stop finding creative ways around the truth," Tony said. "I know you hate it, even if you can actually do it now."

Tim flushed. "Just because I don't have Gibbs' poker face..."

"You're fine, Tim. You do a good job. But... you're McBoyScout, and I don't want you to have to lie every other conversation with the rest of the team."

Tim walked over to meet the older man. "It's not lying... It's just selective omission." He thought back to his conversation with Abby the other day. "You're going to kill me when I tell you this, but I think I should."

"What did you do?" Tony narrowed his eyes.

"The day Brad came by, I was talking to Abby. I wanted... I wanted her advice on something, since she knows me like that."

Tony ducked his head. "Spit it out, Tim, because I'm really hoping you didn't ask Abby what I think you did."

"No!" Tim couldn't get the words out quickly enough. "Nothing like that. I've never needed advice on what to do in bed."

"Not arguing with you there." Tony looked up and smirked. Tim just waited, kept his eyes on Tony's until the older man sobered. "What then?"

"I was hurt, because you kept shutting me out. And I asked her about it, told her I'd been seeing somebody. She assumed it was a woman, even though she knows I'm not all straight, and I didn't tell her otherwise." Tim reached out for Tony's hand, kept him from pulling away.

"What did you tell her?"

"I told her the person I was seeing was having nightmares and shutting me out, that it hurt that they wouldn't let me be there for them. No pronouns, so I wasn't actually lying." Tim forced himself to keep his eyes on Tony. "She gave me some good advice, a little perspective on what it's like to be dating me if you're somebody who's not used to being able to need somebody without worrying it will destroy you."

"You sure you didn't tell her who you were dating?" Tony's tone was light, but Tim could hear the concern beneath it.

"Abby didn't want to need somebody because it didn't fit with who she is. She doesn't think you can need somebody without destroying part of yourself," Tim replied. "I never got that when we were dating because my mother is completely herself and still in love with my dad. It's what I'm used to. It's why I decided against breaking Rule 12 for her."

"And I'm used to not trusting people to be there because my family is the poster child for dysfunction," Tony said. "Needing them did destroy a part of me."

Tim stepped behind Tony and started rubbing his shoulders, massaging away the tension building there. "I know. And Abby and my dad did a good job of pounding that into me." He thought of Abby's words. "I can't do living together like a couple, not when I know you still can't trust me enough to tell me about the nightmares." When he heard Tony start to speak, he reached around to put his fingers to his lips, silencing him. "But I want us to get there. And I can give you some time to get there. Not forever. But you're not pulling away anymore during your nightmares."

"I've wanted to," Tony confessed. "A few times, I've felt like I'd suffocate in your arms. It passes, eventually, but it's still there." He turned to face Tim. "I know what you need, and I still can't give it to you. But I want you to know I'm trying."

"I know. So if you want to be roommates, if you're OK with that, I am, too." Tim thought for a minute. "I told Brad the other day that I'd always have your six as your partner, no matter what happens to us outside of work. And if we weren 't seeing each other, we would have agreed to live together the first day they ganged up on us. So in order to honor the spirit of Rule 12, I think your idea is a good one."

Tony laughed. "And I can't wait to hear you try that argument out on Gibbs if he ever finds out about us. It'll be worth death by head slap to see that argument."

Tim tried to keep a straight face, but failed miserably. "Just for that, you get to tell everybody we're apartment hunting. I'll be hiding safely out of head slapping and hugging range."

As they headed into the bedroom to watch a movie, Tim forgot to wonder why Tony had been looking at his family photos.


	24. Chapter 23

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning for slight homophobia/bigotry ahead, but it's bete noir only. For new readers, italics means it's Tony's nightmare.

_He sat in front of the desk, trying to gauge the woman in front of him. She reminded him of Lt. Commander Faith Coleman, starched, pinned and expressionless._

_"Now, Mr. DiNozzo, you understand we take this process very seriously."_

_"Yes, ma'am." He tried not to fidget._

_"We want the children in our system to find families, but they must be appropriate families. These children have already been through a great deal, and we don't want to subject them to a family environment that will cause them more trauma." She looked across the desk at him, her hands folded on top of a thick folder with his name on it. "That is why we have an extensive vetting process."_

_"I understand. You don't spend your career in law enforcement without becoming familiar with the damage people can inflict on their children." Tony kept his tone even._

_"You file suggests you have a more personal experience with that issue, Mr. DiNozzo," she said, pulling out a sheet from the back of the file. "That's one of the major concerns we have about the application you and Mr. McGee filed."_

_"Only one of them?" Tony felt his heart sink._

_"Maryland is cautious about gay couples adopting children. It isn't illegal, but I don't believe it is a healthy climate for children." Her tone was clipped, severe. "These children have enough hurdles to clear without also having to adjust to an atypical home situation."_

_"My partner's uncle and his husband have raised two teenagers from the time they were infants," Tony said, willing his muscles to relax. "The older one was accepted early decision to Harvard and the younger one just won a state title in Academic Decathlon and qualified for the state orchestra in Massachusetts. Both are active in volunteer work and play basketball. You're not going to find two more well-adjusted kids anywhere."_

_"Oh, well. That is Massachusetts. They've always been a bit out of step with the rest of the nation on this issue." She raised one eyebrow the way Tim often did, but unlike him, there was nothing but contempt behind it. "Finally, law enforcement officers are statistically much more likely to abuse their family members than your average person. With both of you in law enforcement, that raises the risk significantly. Frankly, I'm not even sure why our agency is considering your application."_

_Tony fought the urge to punch her; that would hardly help their case. "Tim and I are federal agents, working on the most well-respected team at NCIS. Tim has extended family close by, and our teammates are as close to us as family. Both those families are excited about the possibility of us starting a family and spending time with a child who needs lots of love." He took a deep breath. "You can read the extensive character references we've provided, including the one from our supervisor, former Marine Leroy Jethro Gibbs. He's very protective of children since his young daughter was killed while he was stationed overseas, and he wouldn't recommend us if he didn't feel a child would have a safe, stable and loving home with us."_

_"And what about your family?" She pinned him in place with her gaze. "There's very little in here on them, and what little we could find isn't something we think is appropriate."_

_"My family and I have had minimal contact since I turned 18," Tony said. "They are not a part of my life and they would not be a part of my child's life."_

_"Your own family wants nothing to do with you, and you expect us to trust a child to your care?" She pulled out a giant red stamp. "You don't deserve a child."_

_The door to the office opened and his grandfather walked in. "How can you deserve a child when you don't deserve to live?" He stood shoulder to shoulder with the social worker. Uncle Carmine was next. "You should never have been born." He backhanded Tony as he walked by. "You ruined your mother's life. You'll ruin this child's life." His father stumbled in next. "Junior. Why did they call me? You're not in trouble are you?" He turned to his brother. "Carmine, take care of it. I'm busy with a business deal."_

_"You see, Mr. DiNozzo," the social worker said. "Your family says you're not fit to be a parent. Why should we overrule them."_

_Tony opened his mouth, then shut it again. He turned and walked into the waiting room where Tim sat._

_"They said no, Tim," he said. "They won't trust me with a child."_

_Tim didn't say anything, but he'd never been able to keep his emotions from his eyes. Tony saw the anguish in them. "Tim, I can't do this to you. Find somebody else. You deserve to be a dad. I'm not going to take that from you."_

_Tim just nodded and walked away, and Tony couldn't help it. He started calling him to come back._

 

****

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"Tony, it's OK." Tim's hands pulled him close, running along his bare back. "I'm right here. It's just a nightmare."  
Tony tensed slightly before relaxing into Tim's embrace. "Sorry, Tim. Didn't meant to wake you."

"Tony, never apologize for waking me." Tim gently stroked Tony's side, his slow strokes calming Tony.

"Right, it's a sign of weakness." Tony managed a small grin.

Tim tapped him on the back of the head. "No, because there's nothing to apologize for. I'd rather you wake me than go through this alone."

"Thanks, McMom." He pressed his face into Tim's neck. "God, I'm getting sick of these." His voice was muffled against Tim.

"At least you didn't wake up coughing this time," Tim said.

"Wrong nightmare. That only happens in Somalia." Tony squeezed his eyes shut as soon as he realized what he'd said. "Shit," he muttered.

Tim just kept with the long, gentle sweep of his hand. "After talking with Ziva today, I would have expected a Somalia dream," he said, his tone matter-of-fact. "Maybe not having that one is a sign that you're coming to grips with that bete noir."

"More like ..." Tony let his voice trail off, not wanting to go there. "Come on, Tim, let's go back to sleep or even telling them we're going apartment hunting isn't going to keep Gibbs off our case tomorrow."

"You mean later today," Tim said, pulling him close. "I'm here, Tony. I won't let anything hurt you."

Tony tried to settle against Tim, but every time he started to relax, he felt panic spreading out from his chest. He pulled away, feeling Tim tense beside him. As he focused on some of the breathing exercises Brad had given him, the tightness eased in his chest, but not from the man lying next to him. Tony squeezed his eyes shut, hoping a solution would come to him.

After long minutes, he turned on his side, facing Tim, and pulled the younger man to him so their long bodies spooned. As he tightened his arms around Tim, he felt him relax in his arms. Tony pressed a kiss to Tim's shoulder, and soon both men were asleep.


	25. Chapter 24

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the delay. Real life's been insane between election madness (I'm a newspaper editor) and novel revisions. Deadlines everywhere. Oddly enough, when I first wrote this, I had a big delay before this chapter, too, but for a different reason. Writing internal thoughts of a functional mute proved much more challenging than I had expected. Thanks to my brother and my friend Kyrie for help with this chapter (technical language for geek-speak and clarifying what's known by whom, respectively) and my mom and the Trixie crew for listening to me grumble about my functional mute issues.

Gibbs stood outside MTAC looking down at the bullpen where Ziva was working through a cold case file. He was about to check his watch when McGee walked in, carrying a newspaper in one hand and coffee in the other. When most of the sections hit the trashcan as soon as his youngest agent sat down, the team leader quirked his lips up. Good to know even McGee didn't rely on computers for some things. As Ziva asked McGee a question, Gibbs listened.

"McGee, why did you bring in a newspaper and throw it away?"

"I only need the classifieds," McGee said as he turned his computer on. "I read the news online this morning at home."

"Does this mean you and Tony have decided to be roommates?"

"Yes, Tony and I are going to find an apartment to share. Did you really think we could hold out against Gibbs, Ducky and Abby?"

"Are you not afraid he will drive you up the hall?" Ziva walked over to lean against the filing cabinet next to McGee's desk. Now that they didn't have to yell across the bullpen, Gibbs had to strain to hear them.

"Wall, Ziva. I think Tony might make it his mission to drive me up the wall. That's why we're trying to find a three-bedroom, so we have enough space that we're not on top of each other." Gibbs frowned. He hadn't expected that.

"Why would you be on top of Tony? Are you getting those... those little beds that stack."

Gibbs' lips twitched at the look on McGee's face.

"Bunk beds? No, it's an expression. It means to be in each others' space." The back of McGee's neck was flushed. Gibbs was glad to know Tony hadn't completely corrupted McGee. Lying still wasn't second nature. As long as he could pull off an undercover mission, Gibbs hoped McGee never lost that last remnant of the innocent geek he'd discovered all those years ago. He decided it was time to rescue the man and started down the steps.

"And is that not what Tony always does? He invades our spaces." Ziva sounded lost.

Before McGee could answer, Gibbs called him from the steps.

"McGee. Why aren't you helping Abby?"

McGee jerked his head up. "On it, Boss." He left the newspaper on his desk and headed to the elevator. Gibbs met him there.

"DiNozzo?" He kept his voice quiet.

McGee looked at his watch. "Should be finishing up with Brad soon."

"Nightmares?"

McGee frowned. "Last night he had one, but he wasn't coughing this time."

"About?"

"All he would say was it wasn't the Somalia one." McGee shrugged. "And before you can ask, I don't know what the Somalia one is. I don't think he meant to even tell me that much. He just said he only coughs during the Somalia nightmare."

Gibbs' lips pressed together. "Brad know?"

"Do you really think Tony's going to tell him?" McGee raised one eyebrow.

Gibbs didn't even respond, just moved on. "Let me know when you need help moving." He walked away before McGee could respond.

 

****

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Gibbs and Ziva had been plowing through cold cases for about 20 minutes when Vance called him up to his office.

"Leon."

"Gibbs. How's your boy doing?" Vance walked over to the wet bar to pour a glass of ice water.

Gibbs' shoulder jerked in a ghost of a shrug.

"Is he fit for the field?" The director looked over the rim of the glass.

"He's fit, Leon. Brad wouldn't lie to me." Gibbs didn't bother pulling out a chair. He didn't plan to stay long.

"Does anybody lie to you?"

DiNozzo and McGee. He wasn't about to say that, though. "That's still alive? Only you."

Vance's lips tightened briefly, but that was the only sign his barb had hit home. "You'll tell me if he can't handle it."

Gibbs just raised an eyebrow.

"It wasn't a question, Gibbs."

"I'm not going to let anything happen to him. Lost too many agents already. Not going to lose another one." Gibbs focused on the boxing pictures that lined the wall, one of the few things that reminded him this wasn't Jenny's office anymore.

"That why you're so adamant he and McGee live together?"

"McGee can't sleep on the floor and still be a good agent the next day." Gibbs chose his words carefully.

"That going to get awkward if DiNozzo and David finally stop dancing around each other?"

Gibbs smirked. "Rule 12 is there for a reason."

"DiNozzo killed a man and led the invasion of a North African terrorist camp for her. You think your rule will keep them from seeing each other? Or are you relying on McGee to chaperone?"

"No need. I know DiNozzo. Won't be an issue." With that, Gibbs turned and left, before Vance could say anything else. Until he knew how long this had been going on, he wasn't sharing his suspicions and risk losing one or both of his agents. The team couldn't handle another break-up.

 

****

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Gibbs walked down to the lab, but didn't enter. He stood just outside the doorway in the shadows so he could watch Abby and McGee. McGee was soldering electronics while Abby held the pieces in place. Pieces of what looked like cell phones were scattered on the tabletop around them.

"Does it work now?" Abby asked as McGee put down the soldering iron. She handed him some clips that were wired to a gadget on the table. McGee clipped the red and blue wires to the electronic thingy and fiddled with some knobs on the gadget.

"Yes. Yes. Yes. Yes. No." McGee dropped the clips. "Looks like the power fried the capacitor." He pointed to a long, round doo-dad on the electronic thingy.

"Faulty part or short?" Abby pulled her magnifying lens over to examine it.

"I don't see any place there might be a short." McGee's head was next to Abby's, cheeks touching, as he peered through the lens.

"So if we install another capacitor..."

"And test the circuit again..."

"It won't fry if it was a bad part..."

"And if it does, we can hunt down the short..."

Together, they chorused "... and repair it."

McGee stepped away, missing the look Abby gave him. Gibbs hadn't seen her look at him like that since the time McGee was trying to determine Ari's age and Gibbs accused them of playing house. He frowned. When did his office turn into a soap opera?

He walked in the lab. "What'ya got, Abs?"

Abby whirled around. "A lot of french-fried chips, Gibbs. We thought we had this sat phone fixed, but it's being stubborn. McGee's pretty sure it's Cryer's, though, so once we get it fixed, we should have plenty of information for you."

Before Gibbs could reply, DiNozzo walked in and stood next to McGee.

"Cryer's phone?" he said. "Does that mean we get another shot at Director David?"

"Not you, DiNozzo," Gibbs said. "We deal with him again, he's mine."

McGee chimed in. "Does it matter? He's going to be dead if he messes with any of us or Ziva again."

Abby walked behind the guys and draped her arms around their shoulders, standing between them. "Don't forget, I can kill somebody..."

... and leave no forensic evidence." The three men easily finished the line.

"Yeah, Abs, we know," McGee said. He stepped out from under her arm, and DiNozzo followed suit. Gibbs was waiting to see how his forensic scientist handled that when his cell rang.

"Gear up. Missing Marine at Rock Creek Park." He walked out of the lab, knowing McGee and DiNozzo would be right behind him.


	26. Chapter 25

When they got to Rock Creek Park, the team spread out. Tim started shooting pictures of the area along the trail where the missing Marine's iPod and ball cap had fallen.

"David, bag and tag. DiNozzo, sketch." Gibbs walked back across the bridge to the picnic table where the family who had discovered the abduction site was sitting.

Tim shot from all angles, making sure to get closeups of the small patch of blood in the sandy soil. He stepped back, tripping over a rock along the trail, and would have fallen if Tony hadn't grabbed his arm and thrust a leg underneath him for support.

"Careful, McKlutzy," he said, setting Tim upright.

"Are you all right, McGee?" Ziva asked.

"I'm fine. I didn't even hit the ground." Tim felt his cheeks heat as he imagined how dumb he must have looked flailing in the air.

"You sure, Probie?" Tony said. "You might have shaken loose a couple of the computer chips in your brain. Can't have that - where would you be without your big brain?"

"I said, I'm fine." He walked off. "Unlike some people, I actually mean it when I say it."

As soon as he said it, Tim knew it was too low of a blow.

"Yeah, whatever, McClumsy." Tony turned away and went back to sketching.

Tim opened his mouth to apologize, but before he could, Gibbs was there, ordering them to pack it up and head back to the Navy Yard.

"Search crew should be here soon. DiNozzo, with me."

Tony just nodded and tossed the truck keys to Ziva. Tim stifled a groan and followed the newest agent to the truck.

By the time they pulled into the garage, Tim was wishing he had some Dramamine. Ziva must have taken pity on him, because she offered to take the box of evidence down to Abby's lab.

"I'll start tracking down Capt. Wilkerson's friends and family. He's been stationed at Anacostia for about two years," Tim said.

When he reached his desk, Tony was there, but not Gibbs. Tim walked over to his desk.

"Tony, I'm sorry. I shouldn't have said that. I was just..."

Tony nodded. "I know. I shouldn't have teased you. I thought you might be really hurt, but I didn't want to risk our ninja chick noticing." He ducked his head.

"Forget it," Tim said. "Now let's get to work before Gibbs-"

"Asks what the hell you're doing?" The team leader caught both men on the back of the head as he walked into the bullpen.

Tim scurried back to his desk and started tracing all possible connections with Capt. Wilkerson. Once those searches were up and running, he started tracing the Marine's cell phone records and credit cards. Ziva had returned from Abby's lab.

"Boss, I've got something."

"Report, McGee."

"Capt. Wilkerson made two calls this morning, and received a third." He fed his computer into the plasma. "He left for the park after he received the call, and he made both calls while he was at the park." When Gibbs just glared, Tim kept talking. "Ensign Michael Roberts called him, and one of Wilkerson's calls was to Roberts."

"The other?" Tony asked, walking over to stand by the other men.

"Monica Mitchell. She and Wilkerson talk multiple times a day."

"Girlfriend?" Ziva asked.

"Looks that way," Tim said.

"DiNozzo."

"Find Roberts and interview him."

"Take David." Gibbs turned to Tim. "McGee, you're with me."

"Yes, Boss."

The way Gibbs drove, it took just a few minutes to reach Mitchell's house south of Anacostia. But when they knocked on the door of the row house, she didn't answer, and there was no car in the driveway. Gibbs motioned for Tim to follow him around the back. Fortunately, Mitchell was in the end unit, so there were windows on the side. At each one, Gibbs carefully looked inside, then shook his head. After checking every window on the side and back, Gibbs motioned for Tim to follow him back to the car.

"DiNozzo and David better have something," he said as they pulled away.

Back at the Navy Yard, they headed right to Abby's lab, stopping only for a Caf-Pow.

"What you got, Abs?" Gibbs said, holding the large red cup behind his back.

"Good stuff, Gibbs," she said. "The iPod was a mess of prints, but they were all Wilkerson's. No prints on the cap, and all the hairs I found were his as well."

"I thought you said good?"

"Gibbs. You know I like to work up to it." She smirked at the older man. "Now the bloodstains were interesting."

"Wilkerson's?" Tim asked.

"No. He's A-positive, and the blood is O-negative."

"So the blood is probably the kidnapper's," Tim said. "DNA results?"

"Too soon," Abby said.

"If we gave you names?" Gibbs asked.

"You have names? You've been holding out on me, Gibbs." She crossed her arms.

Gibbs pulled the Caf-Pow from behind his back.

"You're forgiven. Names?" She smiled before sipping the fruity drink.

Tim gave her the names and socials of Mitchell and Roberts.

"I'll let you know when I have the results," she said, waving them off.

"Good job, Abs," Gibbs said before walking out, Tim following behind.

Tony and Ziva were in the bullpen when they arrived. Tony had an icepack on his face and a scrape above one eye.

"Tony?" Tim clenched his fists to keep from running over to him.

"I'm fine, Probie," he said.

"DiNozzo."

"It's just a bruise, Boss. Ice is to keep it from swelling. Don't want to scare off my hot date tonight." Tim rolled his eyes.

"Roberts?"

"He did not like our questions, Gibbs," Ziva said. "He tried to run, Tony stopped him."

"I wasn't quick enough to duck his first punch, so we could take him in for assaulting a federal agent," Tony said. "He's in interrogation."

"David, with me," Gibbs said. "DiNozzo, have Ducky check you out. McGee, tell Abby to focus on Roberts."

"On it, Boss," the agents said.

As Ziva and Gibbs walked away, Tony made his way to Tim's desk.

"You let him punch you," Tim said.

"Hey, it got him in here, didn't it," Tony said.

"And if he'd really hurt you?"

"Tim, do you really think I was in any danger with Ziva right there?" Tony started to smile and winced.

"Well, no."

"Look, he made a break for it and I stopped him. The punch wasn't part of the plan, but it gave us a reason to arrest him."

Before Tim could reply, his phone rang.

"Agent McGee."

_"McGee, Roberts' blood type matches the blood at the scene, Mitchell's doesn't. DNA will take a little longer."_

"Thanks, Abs." He hung up. "Come on, you've got to get to Ducky and I've got to tell Gibbs what Abby found."

"So Roberts is our dirtbag?"

"Looks that way."

When Tim walked into observation, Ziva was watching as Gibbs stared at Roberts in the interrogation room.

"Gibbs break him yet?"

Ziva shook her head. "Did Abby give you anything that would connect him to this?"

"Just sending the Boss a text now."

Tim watched as Gibbs opened his phone and looked at the screen, then stood and walked into the hallway. Tim met him there.

"DNA match?"

"Not yet, Boss," Tim said. "But the blood type matches, and Mitchell's doesn't. Want us to search his house?"

Gibbs nodded. "Take DiNozzo with you. Tell David to go to Anacostia and find the connection between them."


	27. Chapter 26

Once in the car, Tim remembered he needed to update Tony.

"Gibbs knew we were getting an apartment together before I even told him," he said.

"I think Abby's right, El Jefe must be psychic," Tony replied as he steered the car out of the parking lot. "Did he say anything about it?"

"Asked me to let him know when we need help moving." Tim grinned. "I guess that means the whole team is helping, knowing Gibbs."

Tony laughed. "I'm only going to get frightened if Vance shows up to help." As he steered around a corner, he asked, "So did you see anything promising?"

Tim shook his head. "Not many three bedrooms, and the ones I could find didn't allow pets. I did see a couple of houses for rent that might work."

"Good thinking, McRealtor. As bad as the real estate market has been, we might be able to find a good deal on one from somebody who's just trying to bring in money to cover the mortgage until they can sell it."

"If we're lucky, we'll either find Wilkerson or a clue to where he is at Roberts' house and we'll be done early tonight and can find some places to see this weekend. So what do you think we'll find at his place?"

Tony frowned as he drummed his fingers on the steering wheel. "The captain's military ID, cap and iPod were at the scene, along with some blood. The blood was dry when we got there, and the family that found the stuff lying along the trail had called right away, so it probably had been lying there a while."

"The blood wasn't the captain's, though. It was Roberts' blood," Tim said. "And Roberts' fingerprints weren't on any of Wilkerson's gear."

"Are you thinking Roberts might be the victim here?" Tony asked. "Then why would Wilkerson leave his stuff on the trail?"

"I don't know," Tim said. "It's as reasonable as explanation as the alternative. Where did the blood come from? You saw Roberts. Did he look injured?"

Tony's laugh held no humor. "We didn't get a good look before he started swinging. He had a couple injuries when we finally took him down, but I don't think you could say which came from us and which were there before."

"So we don't know if the guy in custody is our dirtbag or our victim." Tim frowned. "Let me call Gibbs and see if he's learned anything."

_"Yeah, Gibbs"_

Tim explained their questions as quickly as he could.

_"Good thinking, McGee. Roberts lawyered up. Coleman won't be here for another hour. Check it out. I'll get Abby digging into Wilkerson's background."_

Tim put his phone away after Gibbs hung up.

"Roberts won't talk until JAG gets there, and Commander Coleman's tied up. Abby's going to see what she can find on Wilkerson. Maybe we'll find something at Roberts' house that will explain what's going on." He checked the car's GPS. "We should be almost there."

They pulled up outside the house and headed for the front door, unholstering their SIGs. As they approached the front door, Tony motioned for Tim to approach from the left, while he took the right. The senior field agent knocked on the front door. No answer. He knocked again, then pulled out his lock picks.

Within a minute, they were inside clearing the house. Once it was clear, they met in the kitchen.

"I'll take the kitchen and living room," Tony said. "You work your magic on his computer and office. First one done tackles the bedroom."

Tim just nodded and headed to the back of the house, pulling on his gloves as he went. He started with the small file cabinet. One drawer slid out easily, but the bottom was locked. That was probably the place to start. He pulled out the lock picks Tony had trained him to use and fiddled with the tumblers until they released for him. Tim slid the drawer out and found it full of old newspaper clippings and papers.

He pulled out the first folder and opened it. He hadn't read more than a few of the clippings before he started cursing.

"Tony, get back here, now." His voice carried easily through the small house, and the older man was back there within a minute.

"Tim, what's wrong?"

Tim couldn't speak. He just handed Tony the file. Tony scanned the first page quickly. Reading the second one caused him to breath in, short and sharp. He hadn't read more than a few sentences of the third one before he flipped open his cell phone.

_"Yeah, Gibbs."_

"Boss. Tim just found something. It's... Don't talk to Roberts until we get back. And tell Ziva to find Monica Mitchell and bring her in for questioning."

_"Why?"_

"Too complicated to explain, Boss. We'll be back there ASAP to show you. Just... Don't assume we've got the right roles assigned on this one. We might have more bad guys than we thought."

They packed up the folder in an evidence bag and secured the house before heading back to the Navy Yard.

Gibbs was waiting for them in the bullpen, glaring. Tony handed him the file while Tim went to his computer and pulled up the information he'd found earlier that day. Once it was up on the screen, Tony started talking.

"Roberts has an older brother, Darren Roberts," Tony said. "He's about 10 years older. He was arrested five years ago for domestic violence, almost killed his wife."

Tim put a picture of Monica Mitchell up on the screen and watched Gibbs look at the photo on the top newspaper clipping, then back at the plasma.

"Same woman."

"Right, Boss," Tony said. "It was an ugly trial. They had more than enough evidence, but Darren Roberts hired a sharp lawyer. He argued that Roberts had been severely beaten as a child by his father and this was a result of that, tried to make Roberts into the victim."

"Short version, DiNozzo."

"Roberts was found guilty. While he was in prison waiting for his appeal to be heard, another prisoner shanked him until he bled out." Tony's lips tightened before he went on. "Ensign Roberts had turned 18 just a few months earlier. He had moved in with his brother at 14. In the trial, she testified that Darren Roberts had been abusing her for a couple of years, but it got much more intense after our guy moved in. He didn't beat her, but he watched as his older brother did. They didn't bring him in directly, but reading between the lines, he seemed to get some sick pleasure out of it that egged his brother on. He was only 15 when the charges were filed, and they couldn't get it bumped to adult charges because he was only an accessory. So once he turned 18, the file was sealed and he enlisted."

Tim walked out from behind his desk to stand with Tony. "We figure that Monica Mitchell is the connection between them. Beyond that, we don't know, but we thought you could use this in interrogation once Commander Coleman gets here."

"Good work. Now get back there-"

"And search the place for anything that might tell us what happened this morning on that trail. On it, Boss," Tim said.

"Wait for David and take her. DiNozzo, you're with me."

As Tim watched Tony and Gibbs heading toward interrogation, he didn't envy Roberts.


	28. Chapter 27

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just a quick note - Tony's been so much more angsty than originally planned that this will diverge from the season a little bit sooner than originally planned. No major changes to canon, but there will be one subplot from one episode that I'm ignoring.

Tony followed Gibbs as they left the bullpen. He slipped into observation, while Gibbs entered the interrogation room. Commander Coleman was already there.

Ensign Michael Roberts was sitting at the table, hands resting on top. His close-cropped hair was dark against his tanned skin. He stared ahead, stony-faced, as Gibbs dropped the folder on the table, pulled out the other chair, flipped it around and sat down.

"Where's Wilkerson?"

"Who?" Tony frowned at the surprise in Roberts' tone.

"Capt. Wilkerson. He disappeared while running at Rock Creek Park today. You were there." Even looking at the back of his head, Tony could tell Gibbs has his eyes locked onto Roberts' face.

"That nut?" Roberts snorted. "I should be filing charges against him. I was stretching after my run and this nut comes up, starts yelling at me, and hauls off and decks me."

"Just a random assault?" Tony thought Gibbs' tone really should be a warning sign to the guy.

"OK, so I can tell he's a Marine and maybe that means he's mad about something on base, but I don't recognize him. I deck him back, but it barely makes a dent. This guy's solid muscle. So I leave, and he lets me. Next thing I know, your cops are dragging me off in handcuffs. I don't know what happened to him, but when I left him by the bridge, he was fine. I was the one with a bloody nose."

Tony watched Gibbs open the folder and take out a few of the clippings, turning them so Roberts can see them.

"Hey! Those are mine. What gives you the right to ransack my stuff?" He planted his hands on the table and leaned toward Gibbs.

"Monica Mitchell."

"Not that bitch again. She ruined my brother's life."

Gibbs reached over and shoved Roberts back in the chair. Coleman opened her mouth to object, but Gibbs just glared at her.

"Why, because she wouldn't let him beat her to death while you watched?"

"She deserved it," Roberts said. "It was all her fault."

"Gibbs, that's enough. I need a moment with my client." Coleman faced the team leader down, then bent over and started whispering.

Tony was suddenly glad he was alone in observation. He could feel his mask slipping, and every time he tried to get a better grip, it squirted away like a bar of soap. He tried to focus on the breathing exercises Brad had given him, but still felt his chest tighten as Roberts' words sent him back to that dark place.

_His mother had been dead just a few days, and Tony couldn't stand being around anybody. The post-funeral reception still was going on, but Tony had to leave. He slipped out, stopping in his room to change into jeans and a black shirt, the left from the back of the house. Once outside, he edged alone the stone wall until he was out of sight, then found a quiet corner behind the storage house for the sports equipment. He sat down, hugging his knees, his thin back pressed into the stone wall of the building. He looked out, past the tennis courts. The sun had started to slip down in the sky, but there still was plenty of daylight left. He didn't know how long he sat there, just thinking. Remembering his mother, her quiet smiles and encouragement. He never got that from his father, who only wanted to see him when he was giving his daily report while pouring his father's evening cocktail. McCallum 18, three fingers. His grandfather and Uncle Carmine were hardly better. They only paid attention to him when he'd done something to make them mad. He did that a lot, but he could never figure out what it was so he could stop._

_When he looked up again, the sun was low in the sky. The trees were dark against the golden sky, and just a hint of blue touched the top edges of the sky._

_"There you are."_

_Tony looked up to see Uncle Carmine towering over him. He shrank back, making himself as small against the building as he could. His uncle yanked him to his feet, scraping his back against the rough stone. "You couldn't even spend a little time honoring her memory. You killed her, and then you run away." He shoved Tony back into the wall, twisting his arms up behind his back until Tony cried out in pain. "Take it like a man. She never complained when you hurt her; you don't get to complain when you feel the same pain she did." The man released his arm and threw Tony to the ground, kicking him in the ribs. Tony curled into a ball without even thinking, just trying to dodge the sharp pain from the leather-shod feet pummeling him. "She was beautiful. She was mine. She never would have gone with your father if he hadn't knocked her up. She would be alive today if not for carrying you. Now I'll never have her and it's all your fault." The older man yanked Tony to his feet only to deliver blows to his already-aching ribs. Tony dropped to the ground and covered his head, hoping to block out what his uncle was going to do next._

_When nothing happened after long moments, he lifted his head and tried to get up. Pain shot through his shoulder and ribs. He used his other arm to help lever himself up. He stood and felt like he was going to fall over. Tony reached for the wall and pressed a hand into it, feeling the texture with his hand, focusing on the feel of the rough sandstone. He didn't know how long he stayed there before his hand started to hurt from leaning all his weight on it. Tony forced his hand to drop and wavered there for a minute before trying to walk. Each movement sent pain arcing through him, but he forced himself to move through it. By the time he reached the house, then sun had set. He made it into the house and upstairs. Everybody had left, and nobody seemed to notice him. Tony pressed his good arm into the railing as he inched up the long staircase to the second floor. Each step sent fiery pain through his body. He thought of walking down to his father's room to show him what Uncle Carmine had done, but he didn't think he could make it. He decided to wait until tomorrow, when his father would see what had happened. Then he could just tell him._

_Except he never asked. Tony was in even more pain the next day and so stiff he could barely move. But his father barely looked at him. Uncle Carmine wasn't anywhere around, and Grandfather looked at him, but said nothing. Each time after that, it was the same. His grandfather looked the other way, his father was oblivious and his uncle stayed away for a day. Tony just hid his pain, knowing it would get him nothing. If he smiled and joked and entertained people around him, his father occasionally smiled at him, enjoying the show. ___

__

__Tony shook his head as he returned to the present. He'd played the clown for too many years to stop now. Wear a mask long enough and your skin starts to grow over it, making the mask part of you. His mask was too woven into himself to let it slip now. Even with Tim. Tim knew the mask. He even knew a little bit more, the serious Tony mask that Tony had developed while dating Jeanne. It wasn't the real Tony, but it was a Tony that didn't play the clown. But Tim didn't know the Tony behind the mask. Nobody knew the Tony behind the mask except his family, and they despised that Tony. He knew that he could handle living behind the mask. He couldn't handle losing Tim, Gibbs, Abby or the others because they found the real him. At least with Tim he didn't have to worry about children. They couldn't have them, probably couldn't adopt them. Tony would never have to worry about warping his children because of this the way Darren and Michael Roberts had been warped by their father._ _

__The door to the observation room opened and Abby slipped inside._ _

__"Is Gibbs almost done?" she asked._ _

__Tony blinked and realized he'd lost track of the interrogation. He focused on the room on the other side of the glass. Coleman was still whispering to Roberts and Gibbs was standing in the corner under the video camera, eying them._ _

__"Coleman stopped things right before Gibbs was about to tear Roberts apart." Tony was glad he hadn't blanked on anything important. He tried to keep his tone normal. "What do you need, Abs?"_ _

__"I know how Capt. Wilkerson found Ensign Roberts," she said. "And I'm pretty sure I know why he flipped out, too. Are you OK, Tony? You looked a little out of it when I walked in."_ _

__Tony didn't reply, just texted Gibbs to join them in observation. He didn't need Abby knowing about the nightmares or he'd be subjected to death-by-hugs._ _


	29. Chapter 28

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks to Kyrie for keeping my plot bunnies on a logical path so they're not hopping around lost in the woods!

Gibbs walked into observation. "Better be good. We need something."

"Gibbs! I always have something. This time, it's even hinky," Abby said. Tony couldn't help but smile at her indignation.

"What ya got, Abs?"

"Capt. Wilkerson was new in the personnel office, just transferred from another department. There were issues with SRBs not being kept up to date, and he was charged with auditing the department to find out how widespread the problems were."

"And one of the ones he audited was Ensign Roberts?" Tony asked.

"Not only that, but his was one where they found problems," Abby said. "He was credited with extra time because they screwed up the dates of his last tour so he got credit for the same year twice, once at Coronado and once at Anacostia."

"Wilkerson investigating?" Gibbs raised a single eyebrow. The part of Tony's brain that wanted to focus on anything other than the case wondered where he and Tim had learned how to do that and if they could teach him.

"Not only investigating, but had some paperwork on his computer with notes from talking to Roberts' CO at Coronado. Looks like the CO mentioned Roberts had had a rough time growing up, gotten in trouble as a kid, had some issues trusting bureaucracy." Abby grinned. "His browser history showed he had searched for information about the older brother's trial, and the time stamp is after yesterday's conversation with the CO at Coronado."

"McHacker's taught you too many tricks," Tony said. "Next thing we know, you'll be hacking the Pentagon without his help."

"DiNozzo." The head slap was a reassuring detour into the familiar, knocking the last remnant of his living nightmare from his head.

"Right, Boss. Good work, Abs." He was glad to see her smile at his Gibbs impression. "So we've got Wilkerson with all the information he needed to know Roberts was one of the ones who traumatized his girlfriend."

"They just happen to run into each other?" Gibbs asked.

Abby shook her head, sending pigtails through the air. "We checked Wilkerson's cell earlier. After I saw this, I checked Roberts and he was at home when he called Wilkerson, and he called Wilkerson's office number, which bounced to his cell. It wasn't a long call, so I'm not even sure Wilkerson picked up."

"Like he was returning a phone message and leaving his own?" Tony said.

"Exactly." Abby beamed. "The next call, Roberts was in the park when Wilkerson called him. Wilkerson's phone GPS shows he left home a few minutes after Roberts called him and went to the park. Then he called Roberts and moved to another location in the park, near where you found his stuff. Based on Roberts' GPS, the ensign was on one of the trails that connects to the one where you found Wilkerson's stuff. Now this is where it gets hinky . I think Wilkerson went to the park to confront Roberts, threaten to tell his current CO about the juvenile charges. I don't know if the CO would care, but since Roberts apparently wouldn't tell his Coronado CO anything, judging by Wilkerson's notes, Roberts must not want the news out. Going to the park lets Wilkerson make the threat off base, and with the threat, Roberts couldn't file charges against Wilkerson or he'd risk his past coming out."

"And when Roberts ran off after Wilkerson punched him, Wilkerson decided to disappear for a while and frame him?" Tony said. "That's beyond hinky. If we were able to track everything to put this together, how did he think he was going to get away with it?"

"Has so far," Gibbs said. "Haven't found him."

"Abs, can you track his cell phone?" Tony said.

The forensic scientist slapped her forehead. "After he called Roberts, he turned his phone off and it was off when I checked before, but I haven't looked to see if it's back on."

"Do it," barked Gibbs.

Abby left, but Gibbs lingered behind.

"Tony."

The rare use of his first name startled Tony. "Boss?"

"Came in here while Coleman was talking to Roberts. You were zoned out, didn't notice."

Tony cursed softly.

"Wasn't sure what would happen if I disturbed you, didn't want to get Ducky up here and make a fuss."

"No need, Boss. I'm fine," Tony said.

Gibbs opened his mouth as if to speak, closed it, then opened it again.

"Tony. I don't know what set you off, but you're not fine. Not going to make you talk, but you either stay with McGee or me tonight. Your choice."

Tony knew the former Marine wasn't kidding. "I'll stay with you. McTherapy could use a break from me and my issues." Now he just needed to find Tim and explain to him.

"Go."

Tony jerked up at Gibbs' voice. Shit. Was that out loud? "Boss?"

"Not having you watch more of this. When McGee and Ziva get back, send one of them down. Dig into Wilkerson, see if you can figure out where he went to ground."

"On it, Boss."

When Tony reached the bullpen, McGee and Ziva were just stepping out of the elevator.

"Probette, Gibbs wants you in observation while he finishes Roberts' interrogation."

"He is not yet done?"

"Roberts lawyered up and it took Coleman more than an hour to get here. Abby just gave him some good ammunition, though. Ought to be a good show." Tony kept a big smirk on his face until Ziva left the bullpen.

"Tony?" Tim said.

Before he could answer, his desk phone rang.

"Very Special Agent Anthony DiNozzo." He listened to the dejected Goth on the other end. "Keep trying, Abs. Maybe he'll turn it back on."

"Wilkerson?" Tim asked.

Tony nodded. "Come on, McGeek. Let's get some coffee. Gibbs has it under control."

Once they were outside the building, Tony led the way to a bench out of sight of the building.

"What's wrong?" Tim sat sideways on the bench, his eyes on Tony.

"Roberts... He's a sick bastard." Tony took a deep breath and forced himself to continue. "He blames Monica Mitchell for what happened to his brother. And..."

When he didn't finish the sentence, Tim put one hand on his shoulder. "Tony, just spit it out. It's like ripping off a bandage. Do it quickly."

The weight of his hand anchored Tony. "The way he said it, he brought back some stuff, bad memories. I zoned out. Don't know how long I was out of it. Gibbs caught me." He flexed his fingers then curled them into fists. "Abby almost did. Gibbs said I have to stay with either him or you tonight. Don't have to talk, just have to stay." He waited until McGee was looking into his eyes, forced himself not to look away. "He's right. And I'm really hoping you're not going to take this the wrong way, but I need to stay with him tonight."

He could see Tim take one breath, then a second. "What way should I take it?" he finally asked.

"I'm not trying to shut you out. I just... I don't know if I can tell this, but if I do, I need Papa Smurf there. It's sick and messed up and I don't want to tell anybody because I'm afraid you're going to hate me for it. But it's not going back in the bottle, it's not going away. And I need..." His voice trailed off as he struggled with what to say.

"You need your dad there," Tim said quietly. "You need to know somebody will protect you from the demons and dads always keep their kids safe."

Tony closed his eyes and nodded. "Should have known the writer in the family would have the words."

"My dad and I talked a couple of weeks ago, when you first started shutting me out. He helped me see things differently," Tim said. "Go, tell Gibbs. I'd like it if you could tell me, but I'd like it more if you could stop having nightmares and if that means telling Gibbs, do it."

Tony felt the bands around his heart loosen. "Thanks, Tim. That... Thanks." He smiled, just a small one. "I'd kiss you if we weren't on a Navy base."

Tim smiled. "I'll take a rain check. No need to out us to..." His voice trailed off.

"Tim?"

"Didn't you say Abby almost caught you?"

Tony nodded. "She walked in just after I woke up from whatever level of hell I was on. Why?"

"Remember I told you I'd asked her for advice about the person I was seeing who was having nightmares?"

It took Tony a second, but then he realized why Tim's pale skin had lost all color. "If she finds out I'm having nightmares, we're so busted."

Tim nodded. "Now I'm really glad you're going home with Gibbs tonight."

"Maybe I'll ask him if I can stay for a couple of days," Tony said. "Meanwhile, we need to throw Abby off the track."

Tim thought for a second. "I know. I'll go down to check on evidence, mention how glad I am you're staying with Gibbs for a few days to go running so I can get some quality time with the person I'm seeing without worrying about you. And when she asks about the nightmares, I'll say we worked that out and things are good."

Tony frowned. "That could work. But then what about when we move in together?"

"Next week, I'll just mope around a bit until she asks what's going on. Then I'll tell her that she broke it off with me. I can even say it makes moving in with you appealing because I'll have your goofy jokes to distract me."

"And I'll tell her in a few days that I can't wait to find a place because there's only so much of Papa Bear Gibbs I can take."

"Now that's genius," Tim said. "Come on, let's get some coffee before Gibbs finds we've been gone this long or he'll head slap us so hard we'll be at Bethesda with concussions."


	30. Chapter 29

Tim and Tony had their coffee and were on the way back to the NCIS building when Tony's phone rang.

"DiNozzo."

"OK, Abs. Ziva's in observation. Tell her McGee and I will pick him up. Have her call us if there's anything we need to know from El Jefe's interrogation." He hung up the phone.

"Wilkerson?" Tim asked.

"He turned his cell phone back on, and he's at his house."

Tim stopped dead and stared at Tony. "Wait. We've been trying to find this guy all day, have somebody in interrogation with Gibbs and the guy's at his house?"

"You got it, McStunned."

"So do we even have a crime?"

"I'm hoping Ziva has more for us," Tony said. "Come on, let's go get this guy and bring him in."

An hour later, Tim decided that this was one MCRT case that would never make it to his "Deep Six" series. Wilkerson came with them with only a little fuss. As soon as they had him in holding, they went to the bullpen, where Ziva and Gibbs were talking with Commander Coleman.

"Gibbs, you can't hold him," the JAG lawyer said. "Yes, he's a creep and I think any woman he dates is going to end up taking out a restraining order, but he didn't actually do anything wrong. The SRB paperwork snafu doesn't even appear to be his work."

"Got Wilkerson downstairs, Boss," Tony said as they walked off the elevator. "He's got scraped knuckles and he's not talking."

"That is because he is an idiot," Ziva said. "He does not have the brains to be a master criminal."

"OK, can somebody start over?" Tim said. "I didn't see any of the interrogations, and I'm hopelessly confused."

Gibbs jerked his head at Ziva, who started talking.

"Roberts returned a phone call from the personnel office this morning. That was the call to Wilkerson. He left a message for Wilkerson he was running at the park and would be back on base by 1000. Wilkerson, according to Abby, drove to the park and called Roberts. Roberts said Wilkerson set up an appointment for 1100 hours, and they talked about running routes for a few minutes. We believe that Wilkerson used that to figure out where he could intercept Roberts to assault him."

"As far as I can tell, that's the only crime that's been committed," Coleman said. "That's not even a JAG matter. The MPs will handle that."

"But Roberts ran," Tony said. "So what, Wilkerson decided to fake his death to get Roberts in trouble? That's like..." He paused. "That's so bizarre, I can't think of a movie like it."

Tim's jaw dropped. "I never thought I'd see the day you couldn't find a movie reference for a case."

"They don't make movies about idiots, McGee," Gibbs said. "Get down to Abby's lab and help her. DiNozzo, Ziva-"

"Call the MPs. On it, Boss," Tony said.

"I'm going to find out what the hell Wilkerson was thinking," Gibbs said.

"That's my cue to leave," Coleman said.

"What are the rest of you waiting for? Get this done and you can pack it in."

"Great," Tony said. "McRealtor, that... Oops."

"Oops?" Ziva said.

"Sorry, Tim. I forgot we were supposed to look for apartments tonight if we got out on time," Tony said. "I didn't think of that when I said I'd go running with Gibbs for the next couple of days to give you a break.

"DiNozzo, McGee."

"Yes, Boss?" they said.

"My place. Dinner. Both of you. Bring the classifieds."

"Yes, Boss." As Tim headed out, he wondered what they were getting themselves into. Apartment hunting in front of Gibbs? That certainly limited the discussions they could have. Not that Gibbs had given them any choice.

When he reached the lab, Abby had the Damocles electronics out again.

"I never thought I'd say this, but I don't want to solder another circuit the rest of this year," Tim said.

Abby hugged him and handed him a pair of gloves. "That would make a lot more sense if it wasn't already November, McGee," she said.

"True," Tim said. He thought back to his earlier conversation with Tony. "Not that I have time to build anything these days anyway between Tony-sitting and dates on the rare nights I'm not Tony-sitting. Thankfully Tony's staying with Gibbs for a few days so I can get some quality time with the person I'm seeing."

"Tony's staying with Bossman?" Abby said. "Is he OK?"

"He is," Tim said. He figured that the older man would be after talking to Gibbs, so it wasn't really inaccurate to say that. "But we finally decided to go ahead and get an apartment together, and with my lease up in three weeks, we need to move pretty quickly."

"And you want a few times with your girlfriend at your place before you have to go to hers because it's awkward having a date with a roommate?" Abby's smile wasn't quite as big as normal.

"We'll both have roommates once Tony and I are sharing an apartment," Tim said. "Now that we finally got things worked out, I'm about to end up with DiNozzo as a roommate. He's either going to drive me nuts with his innuendo or make such a good impression she decides she's dating the wrong NCIS agent." He figured he'd better change the subject. "So which one are we working on this time? Still Cryer's?"

"Let's try one of the others instead. I think we need a change of pace from Cryer's."

Before he knew it, Tony was in the lab. "Come on, McMover. If you're going to feed Jethro before dinner at Casa Gibbs, you'd better get out of here. I'm hungry."

"Did Boss break Wilkerson?"

Tony snorted. "Took about 30 seconds. I don't know why the Navy put that guy in charge of investigations. He's an idiot. And now he's facing assault charges and is in custody of the MPs."

"At least that's one case wrapped up," Tim said. "Abs, I gotta go. I'll be back down tomorrow if we don't catch a case."

"Do you want me to go feed Jethro?" she asked. "I haven't had a chance to play with him for a few weeks, and you know he loves his Aunt Abby."

Tim thought for a minute. He didn't think there was anything at his apartment that couldn't be explained by Tony staying over. "If you wouldn't mind, that would be great. You still have your key?"

"Right here. You guys go have fun with Bossman. Maybe he can work his magic over the listings and find you a place." Abby pulled off her gloves and dropped them in the trash.

"Come on, McGeek. Gibbs already left."

Tim followed Tony to Gibbs' house. When they pulled up, they could smell steak cooking.

Inside, Gibbs was crouching in front of the stove, checking the steak under the broiler. The table in the dining room was set with three plates.

"Good timing," Gibbs said. "Steaks are almost done."

Tony went upstairs to put his gear in the guest room, while Tim joined his boss in the kitchen. "What can I do to help?," he asked.

"Beer's in the fridge," he said. "Grab one. Dinner's ready."

Tim got out three bottles of beer and put one at each place. Gibbs pulled the steaks from the broiler and set them on the table.

"DiNozzo."

Right here, Boss," Tony said, walking across the living room.

The three men settled down at the table and started eating. Tim felt a little awkward at first. He'd never spent much time at Gibbs' place, unlike Tony. And between Abby over at his apartment and discussing places to live with Gibbs right there, he had a feeling the night wasn't going to get any easier.

"You boys know what you want in a place?" Gibbs asked.

"Three bedrooms," Tony said. "We both have barely enough space now in one-bedroom apartments."

"Not to mention Jethro," Tim said. "Tony actually suggested renting a house so we'd have more space and he would have a yard to play in."

Tony shrugged. "Seems like there are a lot of them for rent, at least from what I see driving from Silver Spring to Bethesda. It would make more sense."

"They in good shape?" Gibbs asked.

Tony shrugged again. "I guess. I'm not really sure what to look for."

"Cracks in the foundation, water stains on the ceilings, mold," Gibbs said. "Anything that looks like it might require big repairs. You won't be responsible since you're renting, but it'll be a pain."

"Not to mention mold probably isn't good for you," Tim said. "Hey, how did things go with Brad this morning?"

"Nothing new. He's still in the monitoring phase, and it takes a couple of days to get the test results. He should be calling tomorrow if he finds anything significantly different. If not, he'll just update me next week, like he did this week." Tony sliced off a piece of steak. "So,McAuthor, have you thought about how we fit your writing space and workbench in with my awesome film collection?"

Tim rolled his eyes. "I figured your film collection was going in the living room or whatever the common space was. That leaves the third bedroom for my writing area. That way I can write without listening to your running commentary."

"And I don't have the pounding of typewriter keys and buzzing of the shredder interrupting my film festivals." Tony flashed a big grin.

"So," Tim said. "Let's do the dishes and see what we can find. If I've got to be out of my place in three weeks, we need to move quickly. Otherwise it will be the end of December before I can move out."

The younger men did the dishes while Gibbs packed the leftovers away. When they were done, they took the couch in the living room and spread the paper over the coffee table. Gibbs settled in the armchair with another bottle of beer.

"Here's one that looks promising," Tony said, pointing at the first column. "Three bedrooms, fenced yard."

"What's the address?" Tim asked, pulling out his iPhone. After Tony read it off, he punched it in. "It's in a decent neighborhood, not too far from Rock Creek Park."

"Good. You two can get to the bodies faster," Gibbs said. The corner of his mouth quirked up.

"Half the rent on it is less than I'm paying now," Tony said.

"Same here," Tim said. He used his map app. "It would be a shorter drive to the Navy Yard than my place, too."

"And Jethro would like the park," Tony said. "How far is it from Annapolis?"

Tim checked. "It would add about 10 minutes to the drive, but it's closer to Waverly."

"Your dad at Annapolis?" Gibbs said.

Tim nodded. "Has been since I started high school. Probably will be until he retires."

"Tim, can you get a floor plan on that thing?" Tony asked.

"If the agency has one online. Which management company is it?"

Tony told him, and Tim searched for it. It took a second, but he was able to pull up a floor plan. "It's small, but you can read if we zoom in." Tony moved closer to him, and Tim had to force his breath to stay even. He wanted to lean into his partner, but not with Gibbs there. "One bathroom, half bath downstairs."

"You two able to share a bathroom?" Gibbs said.

"Yeah, why not?" Tim said.

"Always the hardest part for me," Gibbs said. "Beauty stuff all over the counter, pantyhose hanging out to dry. No pantyhose, but DiNozzo has his fair share of bottles and tubes of stuff. Baths, showers. Always fighting over some damn thing."

Tim looked over at Tony, hoping he didn't look as shocked as the older man.

"Ummm, Boss. You do realize you're talking about wives and we're talking roommates," Tony said. "Not quite the same thing."

Gibbs' lips quirked up on the side. "Yeah it is. Two people sharing space. Told you before, DiNozzo, I've had roommates and they're called wives."

Tim decided to change the subject. "See, it's got three bedrooms on the top floor and an extra room on the main level."

"Would you want to use that for your writing room?" Tony asked.

"Depends on if it has a door or not," Tim said. "If it doesn't, we're going to bother each other if I'm writing while you're watching a movie."

"Oh, I think we can work something out," Tony said. He nudged his leg along Tim's so they touched from hip to knee.

Tim could feel his ears beginning to heat and shot a glare at Tony. "Oh really?" He fought the urge to look over and see if Gibbs had noticed. "I'll add this to the list. Let's see what else we can find. " He inched away.

They looked at several other houses, jumping between the classifieds to find the listings and the iPhone to search for pictures and floor plans. Tim kept expecting Gibbs to go down to the basement, but he just stayed there, throwing the occasional comment in, nursing a beer.

"How about this one?" Tim said, showing Tony the floor plan. He took the phone and started flipping through the pictures.

"Yeah, McBoring. Only if we can paint. The rooms are hopelessly bland."

"What's wrong with that one," Tim said. "I like my bedroom to be pretty neutral. It's supposed to be a place I can relax."

Tony just shook his head. "And there lies the problem. We're young. Bedrooms are supposed to be places of seduction and romance, not oceans of off-white paint."

Tim snorted. "Just because-" He broke off.

"Just because?" Gibbs said.

"Just because my bedroom is boring doesn't mean..." Tim faltered again.

"Oh, don't stop there," Tony said. "Or do we need to get Abby in on this discussion?" He nudged Tim's knee again as he waggled his eyebrows.

"You and Abby seeing each other again" Gibbs said.

Tim looked over to see a quizzical expression on Gibbs' face.

"No, Boss," Tim said. "That ship sailed a long time ago."

"Rule 12."

"We know," they replied in unison. Tim mentally kicked himself. Great, use "we" in front of the boss during a Rule 12 discussion. Gibbs wouldn't need his gut to figure that one out.

"Just so you know. I'm watching to make sure it doesn't get into the office."

Tim looked at Tony, then back at Gibbs.

"Boss, I just said noting was going on between me and Abby."

"I know. Never hurts to remind you."

Tim let out the breath he hadn't realized he was holding.


	31. Chapter 30

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I think Abby adopted my plot bunnies and dressed them in spikes and leather and gave them vampire fangs, because they have lots of evilocity in store for everybody on the team. Also, much, much thanks to Kyrie, my partner in evilocity, for her help bouncing around ideas for this and future chapters!! Hard to believe we've been doing this for almost 10 years!

After watching McGee and DiNozzo debate the merits of properties for almost an hour, Gibbs decided to give them a break and went upstairs to change. Once comfortable in cargo pants and an old T-shirt, he headed back downstairs to retreat to his basement.

His refuge looked a lot bigger with no boat in it, but Gibbs had done his best to fill the space with a giant worktable filled with partially crafted toys, destined for the children's hospital on Christmas. He pulled up a chair and started sanding the planes and trains he had built the previous week. Once his hands were busy, he let his mind drift back to the two men upstairs.

He thought of them as his sons, just as Ziva and Abby were his daughters. He was pretty sure they weren't thinking of themselves as brothers, though. When they first became close after Ziva left, Gibbs was glad. It was a rough summer, and difficult for outsiders to understand. Vance didn't get it. The man had come a long way since he took over and broke up the team. He wasn't part of the family, but finally Gibbs trusted him. Didn't always agree with him, but trusted him. Abby, Ducky and Palmer sort of got it. They understood the place Ziva had in their little family. But the biggest hole was in the field. It was like after Kate died. He would start to assign her a task and then she wouldn't be there and he could see Ari's bullet puncturing her forehead again. Only this time he could see Ziva standing on the tarmac, asking him to choose. He'd never told DiNozzo that. The young man had enough of a guilt complex over Rivken. Gibbs didn't want to add to it. So when McGee stepped up and was there for him, Gibbs was glad. Until he started realizing his boys were more than friends.

Looking back, Gibbs wasn't sure exactly when he'd first suspected. It was too easy to go back and see past events with new eyes and think he had noticed the signs at the time. DiNozzo looking to McGee when he showed up at the prison camp to take them home. Their regular dinners together all summer. He'd passed the Italian restaurant a few blocks from the Navy Yard and seen them sitting together at the outdoor tables more than once. No Abby, no Ducky, no Palmer. Just them.

And then to find out they were running together regularly, that McGee was adjusting his running schedule to accommodate Tony's lungs. Gibbs knew how hard McGee had been working to get in better shape so he wasn't always lagging behind chasing suspects. He'd made a lot of progress, and Gibbs was pretty sure that for anything longer than a half mile, McGee would probably have the fastest time of any of them. He knew the younger man wanted to be as good as he and Tony. He'd worked hard to improve himself. Cutting back on that to run with Tony didn't fit. If he had to pick a moment that he suspected, it was then. The day Tony had his attack and McGee called him.

He hadn't said anything. He wouldn't as long as they kept it out of the office. He watched. He observed. And when he found out about the nightmares and McGee resisted the idea for them to move in together, Gibbs was fairly certain. But he couldn't say he'd known until tonight. Watching his boys discuss apartments, seeing Tony think about all the things McGee and Jethro would need. His senior field agent had grown up a lot in the past few years. First the fiasco with Jeanne Benoit, then his stint as Agent Afloat. And Ziva. Israel. Rivken. David. Somalia. And now that damned plague.

Gibbs felt his hands tightening on the toy and forced himself to put it down. He opened his hands and tried to stretch and relax his fingers, cramped from wrapping sandpaper around the small toy. He caught the sound of music from upstairs and realized McGee must have left. Time to go see if he could get Tony to talk about what happened that afternoon in the observation room.

Gibbs walked up the basement stairs, the music growing louder. At the top of the steps, he could see into the living room and realized it wasn't from the TV. That only left one place. He walked through the first floor to the study. The door was open, and he stood just outside, listening. Tony's fingers pulled music from the piano keys, flowing, aching notes that explained how blues got the name better than any history lesson.

Gibbs let the music wash over him, bringing back memories of the last person to touch the piano. Her small fingers played mostly basic songs, and the sound wasn't as polished as this. He'd still rather listen to the well-worn tape of her performance than go to one of the many professional performances in the DC metro area. He'd always figured it was the heart she put into her playing that made her better than a more polished performer.

Yet listening to Tony, he questioned that. Tony was polished, as good as any professional he had heard. Despite that, his music had heart. Gibbs found it almost painful to listen. Sorrow drenched the notes. Gibbs didn't know how long he stood there listening. He only noticed the music. From sorrowful blues, it gradually moved into smooth jazz, the pain gradually lifting. He noticed Tony's shoulders softened the longer he played, tension flowing out through his fingers.

As Tony's hands stilled on the keyboard, Gibbs stood in the doorway, waiting for him to turn around.

"Boss!"

"Didn't know you could play," Gibbs said.

Tony shrugged. "My mother had me take lessons as a kid. I didn't like the classical pieces, but my teacher taught me some jazz, too." He rolled his shoulders. "I don't have room for a piano at my place, just a little electronic keyboard, but I find it helps me think."

"You played since you started staying with McGee?"

Tony shook his head. "Haven't been home, except to get more clothes."

Gibbs nodded. "When you go back, bring the keyboard."

"Boss?"

"Watched you, DiNozzo. Your mood, your body language. You weren't thinking when you played. You were letting stuff go. Same thing I do when I sand. Reason I'm even more of a bastard when I stay at the office all night."

"So the sleeping in a chair and living off coffee have nothing to do with it?"

Gibbs dealt out the expected head slap, but lightly. "Cute, DiNozzo. So what set you off today?"

Tony looked away, then down at the floor.

Gibbs grabbed the desk chair, pulled it over by the piano bench. "Tony, talk to me. You need to talk to somebody. Me, McGee, Ducky, even Abby. We're worried and we want to help."

"Can't help," Tony said. "It happened a long time ago. You know how time seems to go really fast when you don't want something to end? It drags on forever when you're ready to move on, but when you want it to slow down? It's like it's on warp speed. The summer, Ziva missing? That was like a whole year we lived during those three months. The week we hunted Ari? Same thing. The time you retired to Mexico? My stupid Agent Afloat banishment? Ages and ages. A basketball game? Minutes. Seconds even. A relaxing Saturday at the park or the movies? Five minutes, tops."

"How long did Roberts' interrogation last?" Gibbs asked.

"Years. Decades. Back to the '70s."

"Year?" Gibbs did the mental math. DiNozzo would have been a kid in the '70s, no more than eight, maybe 10 years old at most.

"The year my mother died. Looking back, it's like all those years were just a fraction of a second. As soon as she died, somebody slipped Father Time a sleeping pill and a snail could have outrun the clock." Tony rubbed his forehead, then dropped his arms to his thighs and hunched over. "The funeral wasn't even over yet. I had to get out of there, away from it. I went out back, hid by the tennis courts. I'd been there for a while when Uncle Carmine found me. He said the same thing Roberts did. 'It's all your fault.' But it wasn't her fault, don't you see Gibbs?"

"What wasn't her fault?" Gibbs replied.

"She didn't do anything. She didn't mean to hurt him. She was just stuck there. She couldn't get out. She just had to take it, take one of them beating her and the other one watching. Nobody stopping them." He wrapped his arms around himself, as if he was trying to become small. Gibbs shifted over to the piano bench, one hand rubbing circles on Tony's back.

"Who should have stopped them?"

He could feel, rather than see, Tony's shrug. "Does it matter? Nobody did."

"Tony. Who. I need to know who."

"My father." The whispered words were so soft, Gibbs could barely hear them.

"Who should he have stopped?"

"My grandfather Pattington. My uncle." Tony's voice was almost inaudible. Gibbs shifted off the bench and crouched in front of Tony. He slid his hands up to the younger man's shoulders, thumbs rubbing small circles.

"You're right, he should have," Gibbs said. "That's what we dads are supposed to do. We protect our kids from people who want to hurt them." He tried to swallow the lump in his throat, remembering how he hadn't been able to save Kelly. "We..." Another swallow. "We can't always." He blinked, clearing his watery eyes. "But we have to try."

"You do, Boss." Gibbs looked up to see Tony looking at him. "You protect all of us. We know you would die for us. We'd do the same."

"I know." Gibbs pushed himself up, offered a hand to Tony. "I don't want to have to, but I would." He led the way into the living room, motioned Tony to the couch. "Tony, why did they say it was your fault?"

The younger man drew his knees to his chest, wrapping his arms around them. "She died because of me. She was always sick, as far back as I could remember. I thought that's why I didn't have any brothers or sisters. But after she died, they told me."

"Your uncle and grandfather?"

Tony nodded. "They said she was sick because of having me." He buried his head on his knees for a minute before looking up. "When I was older, I did some research, figured out they meant she had gotten some damage in childbirth. That let me lock it away, knowing it was something medical, something that happens to some women. But by then I already had the record in my head of everything they said to me, everything they'd done to me. Everything my father didn't do to stop it."

Gibbs felt the last puzzle piece click into place. "And when Ben-Gidon showed up to burn Ziva on Daddy David's orders, it unlocked that record and put it on repeat in your brain."

Tony nodded. "Now it's like I can't shut it off. I've had nightmares almost every night. Tim's been really good about it, but it bothers him that I can't tell him."

"Can't?"

"Can't. Won't. You guys are like family, but..."

"But your family is who did this to you."

Tony nodded. "I figured it wasn't anybody's business. But today, losing that time when I was supposed to be working? That scared me more. I'm already on shaky ground with Vance, and this lung stuff isn't helping. If I can't do my job, he's liable to ship me out again."

Gibbs reached over and put a hand on Tony's shoulder. "You're not on shaky ground with Vance. He was impressed with how you handled David in Israel. More impressed with Somalia. You might not be the type of agent he thinks of first when he's evaluating, but then neither am I. We're a little more old-school than he is."

"Boss, no offense, but you're more old-school than anybody I know except maybe Franks. And even he seems to be mellowing after that fiasco with Amira's grandmother."

Gibbs nodded. "True. But Tony, you don't have to worry about your job. Not for the lungs, not because you're you. You're the best young agent I've ever worked with, and eventually this team will be yours, if you want it."

Tony's eyes widened and he straightened up. "You're not going back to Mexico."

Gibbs smiled. "No, I'm not. No room down there with the house full of women Mike has. I said eventually. Can't stay in the field forever. Six years until they make me retire from the field, maybe more if I fight them on it." He paused, waiting until Tony was looking at him. "I locked away my demons, almost destroyed the team when they came back out. You held them together then, did what I couldn't. Let me return the favor. Let me help you through this, so they don't have to go through this when you're team leader and some case brings back all your memories."

Tony looked back at him, then nodded. "You already did, Boss. Just... That's the first time I've told anybody what happened."

"I'm proud of you, Anthony. That took a lot of guts."

"Thanks, Boss." He looked away, then looked back. "The piano, it was Kelly's wasn't it?"

Gibbs nodded.

"Thank you for letting me use it."

"Any time. Door's always open."


	32. Chapter 31

The next morning, Tony woke up before Gibbs and slipped his running gear on. By the time he made it downstairs, the coffee was filling the carafe and he could hear the former Marine moving around upstairs. Tony poured himself a mug and doctored it with plenty of sugar and some milk.

The mug was almost empty by the time Gibbs made it to the kitchen, and Tony had another one waiting on the counter for Gibbs. The team leader drained half of it in a single swallow.

"Ready?"

Tony nodded and went to the sink to rinse out his cup.

"How far?"

"Gibbs?"

"DiNozzo, it's a simple question. How far do you feel up to?"

Tony shrugged. "It's your run. I'm just tagging along."

Gibbs tightened his lips before speaking. "Not leaving you to walk back alone, and I need to know a distance to pick a route."

Tony sighed. "Fine. Four miles, maybe a bit less. Cold weather makes it worse."

Gibbs just jerked his head in half-nod. "Come on."

They walked outside and Gibbs turned left on the sidewalk. They started out slow, letting the muscles warm up. The early November morning was cold, but not unbearable. After a few blocks, Tony could feel his muscles loosening as they warmed.

"You OK?" Gibbs asked.

"Fine, Boss. We can pick up the pace, you know."

"Didn't know. Haven't been running with you."

Tony sighed. "If it's too fast, I say something. It's been working fine with Tim."

"I'm not McGee."

Tony laughed. "No, Boss. He's not nearly as scary. Of course, nobody's as scary as you."

"He knows your limits."

Tony rolled his shoulders to loosen them up. "We've been running together a lot lately."

"More than that."

"Boss?" Tony swallowed, Gibbs' words stuck in his throat.

"Ever since Ziva left, you two are close. On each others' six."

Tony wasn't sure what to say to that.

"You're good for each other. McGee's a better agent because he's learned from you. He's anchored you during this damned plague mess."

"Not much choice," Tony said. "The way you guys all ganged up on us." He wanted to say more, to let his words go until he'd drowned out whatever Gibbs was saying or not saying, but he couldn't do that and run without something going haywire and then Gibbs would really have something to say.

"Not letting you ignore Brad," Gibbs said. "Not making McGee complain about sleeping on the floor, either." They reached the halfway point and turned back. Gibbs swiped one sweatshirt-clad arm against his forehead.

"I'm not going to ignore Brad," Tony said, shaking his head. "Too much at stake. I don't want to get yanked from the field."

"Not if I have anything to do about it," Gibbs said. "You leave Vance to me."

Tony shook his head again. "Not Vance. The field test. Even you can't fix that."

"You're going to pass until you reach mandatory retirement age, DiNozzo. I know you. You won't let this beat you."

"And when I have to dive into the water or work a crime scene in the rain?" Even as he said it, he felt the familiar hand to the back of his head.

"I've got your six," Gibbs said. "Won't take any chances with you."

"I never try to take chances, Boss. They just happen."

Gibbs snorted. "You take more chances than any two agents I know, DiNozzo."

"But it's not on purpose."

"They happen. That's why you made me your emergency contact and medical proxy, remember?"

"Yeah." Tony thought about Brad's comment the day he visited NCIS. Maybe this was the time to ask-"

"Been thinking about that," Gibbs said.

"Huh?" Gibbs was good, but he wasn't a mind-reader, no matter what Abby said. Was he?

"Medical proxy, emergency contact. You should add McGee to the list."

"I should?" Maybe Abby was right. Maybe Gibbs was a mind reader.

"Living together. Running together. You have an attack on a run, he's there and I'm not. Should have said something a while ago, didn't want you to think I was trying to shift it to somebody else."

"You wouldn't do that."

"No, but I know your head's been in a bad spot. Didn't know why, didn't want to make it worse."

"What changed?"

"You let me in a little last night. I know what's going through your head. You know I'm there for you, no matter what."

"Yeah, I do." Tony didn't know what else to say. Funny how words rolled through his head all day and when he needed them, they weren't there. "I know. You've got my six."

"Always. Failed my family once. Stepped away from my adopted family once. Not letting either one happen again."

Tony grinned. "We're not letting you go. You try, I think we could take you. At least long enough to let Ducky knock you out with a sedative. Get some handcuffs from Abs, lock you up until you come to your senses. We could do that."

"That a challenge, DiNozzo? You three against me, sparring?"

"You don't think we could take you, Boss?"

"I think Ziva and McGee might have something to say to you when I tell them it was your idea."

Tony groaned. "I'm so dead."

"Damn straight." Gibbs put on a little burst of speed and Tony chased him back to his house.

As they stretched in Gibbs' tiny front yard, Tony asked, "So it's OK if I crash here for a few days?"

"Door's open."

"Just didn't want to think I was ruining your weekend plans, Boss."

"No plans." Gibbs shifted his weight to the other leg, sinking down to the ground into the stretch. "You and McGee are looking at places tomorrow, right?"

"As long as no Marines get killed, that's the plan." Tony folded down until his hands touched the ground, stretching the back of his legs. "Won't be out too late."

"No curfew, DiNozzo." Gibbs sat on the ground and reached for his toes. "I'll be your dad when you need it, but I'm not doing bed checks or waiting up. Go out, have fun. Be safe."

Tony opened his mouth, but Gibbs kept talking. "It's been a rough couple of weeks. Go out, relax."

"OK, Boss." Tony risked a glance at the former Marine. Did he know? This wasn't the first comment he'd made. But if he knew, he should be beating Rule 12 into their heads with the back of his hand, and he wasn't. Tony just couldn't tell.

The question twisted through his mind the entire time he was showering, dressing and hanging on for dear life in the car on the way to the Navy Yard. Maybe he shouldn't have ridden in with Gibbs today.

As soon as Gibbs went upstairs to meet Vance, Tony opened the IM window on his computer.

 **FilmBuff:** You able to talk?

 **Elflord:** Yes. Abby's in ballistics with a stack of weapons bigger then Jethro's collection of toys

 **FilmBuff:** I think he knows.

 **Elflord:** Jethro? Knows what?

 **FilmBuff:** Not Jethro. Well, yes, Jethro, but not your Jethro.

 **Elflord:** Gibbs?

 **FilmBuff:** Yes, Gibbs

 **Elflord:** I wondered, but he didn't say anything

 **FilmBuff:** No, and he still hasn't, but I think he knows.

 **Elflord:** He can't know. Can he?

 **FilmBuff:** This morning, he suggested I add you to my medical proxy list because you know what going on better than he does

 **Elflord:** What? He has to know.

 **FilmBuff:** But he's not saying he knows

 **Elflord:** But that comment last night, about sharing space

 **FilmBuff:** I know. He's said a few other things, too.

 **Elflord:** What kind of things?

 **FilmBuff:** Don't remember. I didn't process what he said. My brain was too busy freaking out.

 **Elflord:** If he knows, we're so screwed

 **FilmBuff:** He can't know. He'd say something if he knew.

 **Elflord:** So he doesn't know.

 **FilmBuff:** Unless he does

 **Elflord:** How would he know?

 **FilmBuff:** His gut

 **Elflord:** If he knew, he'd say something

 **FilmBuff:** He hasn't said anything

 **Elflord:** Then he doesn't know

 **FilmBuff:** But I think he does

 **Elflord:** But how does he know?

 **FilmBuff:** If I knew how Gibbs knows things, I'd do it too and we'd catch the bad guys faster.

 **Elflord:** Abby says because he's like Santa Claus

 **FilmBuff:** Abby?

 **Elflord:** She just came over to read over my shoulder.

Tony dropped his head to his desk. If Gibbs didn't know, he would now. Abby was incapable of keeping something like that to herself. They were so screwed.


	33. Chapter 32

Tim was the first one into the bullpen, and he went right down to Abby's lab. Last night was the first time he'd slept alone in almost a month and he'd never realized how big his bed was with just him in it. He really hoped one of the places they were going to look at Saturday worked so they could get moved in. He'd even spent part of the evening after leaving Gibbs' house packing some things in boxes. Not because he couldn't sleep. That wasn't it at all. Just because they needed to get packed. And wasn't that a Tony-like stream of denial. Tim really hoped Gibbs had gotten Tony to open up and talk, because there was no way he'd be able to share with Tim until Papa Bear had given his absolution, and Tim really wanted them to get past this and be able to live their life together.

Abby was sitting at her desk when he walked in.

"Morning, Abbs," he said. "Boss has me back on Damocles duty until we catch a new case."

"So what'll it be? Ballistics or circuit boards?"

"You take the guns," he said. "I've got enough of the electronics repaired to start cracking some encryptions on them. Maybe if we leave Cryer's phone alone for a while, we'll figure out what the heck is wrong with it."

"Good thinking, McGee. I've finally got all the guns cleaned and printed. I want to see if I can match any of the bullets to other crimes." She headed for the soundproof ballistics lab where an entire box of guns lay waiting for her.

Tim settled down at the workstation in the main lab and started running decryption software on the first sat phone. While he was waiting, he opened up IM to see if Tony was in yet. He had just opened the window when Tony sent him an IM.

 **FilmBuff:** You able to talk?

 **Elflord:** Yes. Abby's in ballistics with a stack of weapons bigger then Jethro's collection of toys

 **FilmBuff:** I think he knows.

 **Elflord:** Jethro? Knows what?

 **FilmBuff:** Not Jethro. Well, yes, Jethro, but not your Jethro.

 **Elflord:** Gibbs?

Tim felt a twisting in his gut as he hit send. Tony couldn't mean that.

 **FilmBuff:** Yes, Gibbs

 **Elflord:** I wondered, but he didn't say anything

 **FilmBuff:** No, and he still hasn't, but I think he knows.

 **Elflord:** He can't know. Can he?

 **FilmBuff:** This morning, he suggested I add you to my medical proxy list because you know what going on better than he does

 **Elflord:** What? He has to know.

Tim was having trouble making his brain work.

 **FilmBuff:** But he's not saying he knows

 **Elflord:** But that comment last night, about sharing space

 **FilmBuff:** I know. He said a few other things, too.

 **Elflord:** What kind of things?

 **FilmBuff:** Don't remember. I didn't process what he said. My brain was too busy freaking out.

 **Elflord:** If he knows, we're so screwed

 **FilmBuff:** He can't know. He'd say something if he knew.

 **Elflord:** So he doesn't know.

 **FilmBuff:** Unless he does

 **Elflord:** How would he know?

 **FilmBuff:** His gut

 **Elflord:** If he knew, he'd say something

 **FilmBuff:** He hasn't said anything

 **Elflord:** Then he doesn't know

 **FilmBuff:** But I think he does

 **Elflord:** But how does he know?

 **FilmBuff:** If I knew how Gibbs knows things, I'd do it too and we'd catch the bad guys faster.

"He just knows these things, McGee," Abby said from behind him. "He's like Santa Claus. He knows if you've been naughty or nice."

Tim whirled around in the chair. "Abbs, don't do that! You scared me."

"Sorry, Timmy. What does Gibbs know?"

"Nothing. He knows nothing." And then he jerked his head to the lab doorway because Gibbs was probably... He wasn't. Tim let out a sigh of relief. If Gibbs had heard that, he'd be head-slapped so hard he wouldn't stop until he hit Norfolk. An then he realized the chat window was still up on his screen. He turned back and as he was typing a reply, he looked to see how many lines were visible. He felt his shoulders relax as he realized all Abby could see was the two of them chasing their tails debating if he knew or not, not anything that showed what they were worried Gibbs would know. And oh, god, if he didn't get out of the lab soon he'd be talking like Abby.

 **Elflord:** Abby says because he's like Santa Claus

"McGee. Are you keeping secrets from me?"

"Me?" No, his voice did not squeak when he said that. Not at all.

"If Tony's sick, you totally know Gibbs will find out. He can't keep something like that secret and you shouldn't be helping him."

"Tony sick? No! He's not sick."

"Then what are you two keeping secrets about?"

Tim heard the ding and turned back to the screen.

 **FilmBuff:** Abby?

He tried to think what he could say to tip Tony off without alerting Abby. And when did his life turn into an undercover mission? No wonder Tony always looked tired when he was dating Jeanne. Trying to keep track of what to say to whom was tiring.

 **Elflord:** She just came over to read over my shoulder.

"I was not reading over your shoulder," Abby said. "I was just..."

"Reading over my shoulder." Tim closed the chat window to clear it. As soon as Tony replied, it would pop open again.

"Well, OK, but if something's wrong with Tony..."

"Nothing's wrong with DiNozzo," Tim said. "I mean nothing more than usual. He's still annoying, juvenile and generally Tony."

"And yet you're planning on sharing an apartment with him."

"Umm, Abbs? You're one of the people who's been telling me to share an apartment with him."

Before the conversation could go any further, Tim's phone rang.

_"Gear up. Dead ensign."_

 

"Abbs, I've gotta go. Boss just got the bat signal."

"Go. I'll keep decrypting."

And that was out of one problem and into another. Tim needed to talk to Tony and they couldn't with everybody around. He worked the crime scene, hyperaware of Tony's presence, almost sensing it without even looking. When Ducky ruled the ensign's death a suicide, he breathed a sigh of relief.

"David, with me. DiNozzo, McGee, take the truck back. Make sure it's fully stocked."

As soon as they were in the truck, doors shut, they turned to each other.

"He has to know," Tim said.

"Forget Gibbs. Does Abby know?" Tony said. "The suspense is killing me."

"Abby thinks we're not telling Gibbs you're sick. She didn't see anything to tell her otherwise."

"Oh, thank god," Tony said. "Because if she finds out, it doesn't matter if Gibbs knows or not because everybody will know. She won't mean to tell..."

"... but she's Abby," Tim said. "Believe me, I know. I've known that since Gibbs asked me if I slept in the coffin."

"When was that?" Tony said. "Why didn't you ever tell me this story?"

"I wasn't even on the team then," Tim said. "It was the morning I figured out how to narrow down the pictures to find Ari based on his age. Not that we knew he was Ari then, but you know what I mean."

"Yes, yes, McRamble, I know. That was the day he kidnapped Kate." Tony's grin faltered for a minute. "God I miss her."

"Me, too." He sighed, but didn't let himself wallow. "But Gibbs had me stay for a few days to get that working and then Capt. Watson's computer held him hostage and the next time I went back to Norfolk was to pack my gear and move up here."

"I know. He actually asked you about the coffin?"

Tim nodded. "I hadn't realized it was a coffin. Abby kept the lights out so I wouldn't know."

"You freaked, right? The tat was one thing, but the coffin."

Tim head slapped him. "OK, so I freaked a bit. How would you feel if you found out from Gibbs you had slept in a coffin?"

"True. Good thing I sleep in a bed."

"Yes, and usually it's my bed."

"That's because Jethro can't stay home alone overnight. Not that we'll have that problem in a few weeks." Tony said. "Maybe after we look at places tomorrow, we can go back to my place, put a movie in, have a date?"

"Whose idea was it for you to stay with Gibbs this weekend?" Tim asked. "Because after a month of us practically living together, even Jethro noticed something was missing last night."

"Yours, McClueless. Remember, we're throwing Abby off the scent? You're talking about your date night with your sweetie."

"Right, Abby. You know, I almost wouldn't mind if Gibbs knew."

Tony reached over and pressed a hand to his forehead, but he was watching the road too, so he half-covered Tim's eyes. "You feeling OK, McDelirious?"

"Because Gibbs is really the only one we need to worry about. If he knows and he's OK with it, then even if the others find out about it, it won't make much difference. None of them are going to have an issue with us. Well, except maybe Vance. But nobody on the team would tell him."

" _If_ Gibbs is OK with it. That's a big if. I'm not sure I want to find out the answer to that one."

"True. But if he knows, he seems to be OK with it," Tim said.

"Oh, no. We're not getting back to that discussion. We'll drive ourselves crazy trying to figure out if he knows or not."


	34. Chapter 33

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for all the wonderful reviews! It makes my day to know people are enjoying reading this as much as I'm enjoying writing it. For those of you who have been asking for the guys to have a little time alone for fluff, hope this is fluffy enough. :)

The next morning, Tony drove over to Tim's apartment. He could hear Jethro barking as he walked down the hallway.

Sure enough, as soon as Tim opened the door, he was almost knocked over by a happy German shepherd.

"Geez, calm down, McMutt," Tony said. "At least let me in the door."

Tim dragged the dog away and reached over for Tony. "He's just happy to see you."

"He the only one?" Tony asked. He enjoyed the feel of Tim, and his scent. It had only been two days since the last night they'd spent together, and they had seen each other just yesterday at work, but somehow eons had passed. Longer even than waiting for the director's cut of Lord of the Rings to end so Tim would focus on them instead of the movie.

Tim just pulled him close.

Tony finally had to pull away to breathe. "I'll take that as a yes."

"Last night, while I was trying to fall asleep, I was having a hard time remembering why I fought the idea of us sharing an apartment so hard," Tim confessed. "At the risk of making your ego big enough that it needs its own bedroom, I think I'm suffering from DiNozzo withdrawal."

Tony grinned. "Well, I am a very special agent." He winked at Tim, who burst out laughing.

"Come on," Tim said. "Let's get going. The sooner we find a place, the sooner we can start this date."

"I like the way you think, Probilicious."

They headed outside, Tim pulling up a map with directions to the first place on his phone as they walked out to the car. Tim navigated, checking the directions after each turn with a precision that made Tony smile.

The first couple of places they looked at didn't work. One only had one bedroom bigger than a closet.

"There's no way we could make them buy that we're sharing this," Tim said. "You can't even fit my bed and Jethro's in that smaller room. We have to at least be able to move them in there if the team's helping."

Tony just looked at him.

"What?"

"You suggesting we share a room from the beginning?" he replied. "I thought you weren't ready for that."

Tim shrugged. "That was before you told me a little bit about your nightmares, even though you didn't mean to; before you agreed to talk to Gibbs about them. I'm not saying 'yes, I definitely want to live together rather than just be roommates,' but I'm not ruling it out either."

Tony tried to say something, but no words came. He settled for pulling the younger man into a hug.

"You're speechless? Tony DiNozzo has nothing to say?" Tim pulled back and grinned at him. "Maybe you've spent too much time with Gibbs."

Tony just removed his hand from Tim's back long enough to slap him on the head. "Come on, let's see if the next one is any better."

He held Tim's hand as they walked out to the car, and again once they arrived at the next house. It was nice to just be able to touch his partner again after two nights apart and days at work where discretion was the name of the game. Even before they were together, he was always touching Tim — ruffling his hair, putting a hand on his shoulder, standing close while he McGeeked his way through the computer stuff. Now, especially since they thought Gibbs suspected, he was trying to not touch him so much and it was driving him crazy.

As they walked through the first floor of the house, Tony started mentally putting their furniture in place. The living room would be perfect for his sofa and TV, and the spot by the fireplace was just the right size for his DVD shelves. The kitchen was fairly up-to-date, with room for a table big enough for six by the window. The adjacent laundry room opened to the back yard and was tiled for easy cleanup. Tony mentally put Jethro's leash and outdoor toys by the back door. Across the hall, the study looked like it would hold Tim's writing desk and bookshelves.

"Oh, my god," Tim said. "This is insane."

Tony nodded. "They must have gotten their paint at the same sale as NCIS." He winced looking at the bright orange walls with blue and yellow trim in the study and turned to the rental agent. "Would we be able to paint this room if we rented the house?"

"Yes, sir," she said. "This was the playroom for the children, so the family chose bright colors."

"That's the understatement of the year," Tim said. "Not that it's bad," he said quickly. "It's just that we work in a room painted this color and I don't think I can stand that much orange. I'm not criticizing their taste."

Tony bit back a chuckle at Tim's innate niceness. Even seven years as a federal agent working for the biggest bastard in NCIS hadn't erased it.

"Come on, let's take a look upstairs," he said.

Tim led the way. The hallway was dark, but the rooms off of it were flooded with light from big windows. The master bedroom was good-sized and had a bathroom connected to both it and the hallway. Two smaller bedrooms and a second bath completed the floor.

"The bedrooms are a decent size," Tim said.

Tony walked into the master bedroom, then into the connecting bath. He grinned at the large shower/bathtub combination. "Plenty of room for both of us in there," he whispered to Tim, smirking as his partner's ears turned pink at the tips.

"It's the best one we've seen so far," Tim said. "You want to take it?"

Tony nodded. "Let's find out if we can get in here to paint before we have to move your stuff over."

After a few minutes discussion with the rental agent, the men filled out the applications and gave her the deposit and first month's rent, splitting the cost.

"I expect the application will be just a formality, based on what you've written here," the agent said. "Once we process it, we'll arrange for you to pick up the key. You should be able to move in by the middle of next week."

Once outside, Tim checked his watch. "It's not even 2 p.m.," he said. "Plenty of time."

Tony thought for a second. "Why don't we go grab lunch, then head to Home Depot to look at paint ideas for the walls in the study. Then we can stop by the store to pick up what I need for my spaghetti bolognese, head back to my place and start our date."

"I like the way you think," Tim said.

They opted for a quick lunch, just sandwiches from a shop nearby, then headed to Home Depot. When they walked into the paint section, Tim headed right for the neutrals. Tony rolled his eyes.

"Tim, what are you thinking?" he asked, slinging his arm around the younger man. "Add some color to the room."

"Tony, it doesn't need any more color. And it's mostly my room, so I should get to pick." He pulled out the eyebrow raise and Tony had to stop himself from leaning over and kissing him. Later, he promised himself. They had all evening.

"McNeutral, you need some color. Do you have any idea how many coats of paint it will take to cover that orange if you pick one of those white, off-white or gray paints?"

"What's wrong with gray?" Tim asked. "It's a color."

Tony plucked the paint swatch out of his hand and replaced it with a deep pewter. "If you want gray, go for something like this. It'll cover that orange, and we can jazz it up with some color on the trim."

"What kind of colors?" Tim said, suspicion lacing his voice.

Tony walked a few steps over and started sorting through paint swatches, holding them up against the pewter until he found a couple he liked. "This maroon on the trim, and the wall behind the bookcases in this darker green," he said. "The green will show through the gaps in the bookcases and add some color, and the trim will add some contrast. The colors are perfect for your desk and typewriter, very British study-like. Add in your pipe and tweed jacket and you're all set."

Tim looked at the colors, frowning a bit. Tony handed him the swatches and started flipping through the folders that showed rooms in different combinations. "Look at this one. It's the same idea, except the green is on the bottom of every wall instead of just one wall."

Tim shrugged. "I guess," he said. "I'm all for painting it white rather than getting complicated, but you're right, it would take a lot more coats to cover up the orange. I don't think we could find a paint with a high-enough opacity to do it in two coats unless we spend a lot more money. The length of the light waves-"

"You don't need to explain it to me," Tony said. "I don't need to understand the science to know what works and what doesn't."

"Thank goodness," he said. "If Abby and I had to get you and Gibbs to understand the science behind the evidence for every case, we'd never get out of the lab." The corners of his lips twitched, and Tony mock-glared at him.

"Hey, I'm not nearly as bad as Gibbs," he said. "I actually check my e-mail."

Tim rolled his eyes and it was all Tony could do not to pull him into a hug in the middle of the store.

"Come on, you know you love me for my body, not my brain," Tony said. "I leave the brains in this partnership to you."

Tim snorted. "I'm so going to remind you of that the next time you scoff at my ideas for a case. Now do we need paint for any other room?"

Tony thought about it, then shook his head. "The master bedroom is fine — I can work with that deep blue."

"So you're getting the master bedroom, huh?" Tim said.

"Think of it as incentive to agree to move in with me," Tony retorted.

Tim smirked. "Incentive? You think I need an incentive?"

Tony opened his mouth, then shut it, knowing he couldn't backtrack from this. He thought back to the night before, and his restful sleep following the talk with Gibbs. He went with his gut and opened his mouth. "After I tell you about the nightmares tomorrow - so we can enjoy tonight - your original reason for holding out doesn't apply. So yeah, I think a little incentive is in order."

The stunned look on Tim's face and the smile that started small, then grew to be bigger than Abby's at her perkiest, confirmed he'd made the right choice.

"Yes, really," Tony said, answering the unspoken question. "I felt a lot better after talking with Gibbs. I thought I'd regret it, that he would look at me differently. But he didn't, and he made me realize anybody who really loves me won't look at me differently because of all the screwed-up stuff my family did to me. So I know I can tell you."

Tim looked at him for a second, then grabbed his hand and started pulling him toward the exit. "Come on. We can buy the paint and the dinner later. Let's just get home so I can show you how much I do love you."

Tony used all the tricks he had learned from Gibbs and Ziva over the years to get them back to his place as quickly as possible. For the first time, he wished he didn't have a stick shift so he could have one hand free. In what seemed like ages longer than it was, they were back at Tony's place. Tony fumbled the key in the lock because he couldn't take his eyes off Tim, couldn't wait to start undoing the buttons on his shirt. He finally got the lock open and pulled Tim inside, dropping his jacket on the floor and wrapping his arms around Tim, stumbling together back to the bedroom. For the first time since Ben-Gidon showed up at the Navy Yard, Tony felt completely relaxed and at peace. Or at least as relaxed as he was going to get with Tim on top of him and their clothing rapidly disappearing.

Complete relaxation came afterward as he lay there, arms around Tim.

"I'm not too heavy, am I?" the younger man asked.

Tony just shook his head and pulled him closer. "Nope. I'm just a big, boneless puddle of DiNozzo under here."

Tim laughed into his neck, the vibrations traveling through Tony's body. "Think you can make it to the bathroom so we can clean up?"

Tony nodded sleepily, but didn't move when Tim got up. Tim finally gave up and went to the bathroom to get a washcloth to clean them up with. That done, he curled up next to Tony in bed and they drifted off for a nap.


	35. Chapter 34

When Tim opened his eyes, it was just starting to get dark. He relaxed in the cozy cocoon of blankets, resting his chin against Tony's shoulder. His thumb rubbed gently against the knuckles on his partner's hand.

"The first time my uncle beat me was the afternoon of my mother's funeral," Tony said. Tim stilled for a moment at the unexpected admission and forced himself to keep his touch smooth and gentle as Tony continued, his voice barely audible.

"I was hiding, needing to get away from the house and all the people. He found me. He'd always resented me. When I was older, I realized he had wanted my mother. Two brothers, both in love with the same woman. It's the plot of a hundred movies, and I've hated every one of them. There's nothing good that can happen in that situation." He paused, and Tim pulled him closer.

"They never told me any of this, but even then I liked investigating. Not everything I heard made sense at the time, but when I got older, I figured it out. My father knocked my mother up, married her before my grandfather Pattington could find his shotgun. My grandfather doted on my mother, his only daughter. When my grandfather DiNozzo died before I was born, Uncle Carmine and my father split the family estate. They both lived there. I don't think my mother liked having Uncle Carmine there - it must have been awkward - but she never said anything. Her father moved here from England when my parents got married and lived with us. Just your average dysfunctional family situation." Tony wrapped his arms around Tim's, pulling the younger man even closer to his back. "Maybe it would have worked if my mother had lived. She was the glue that held us together. We weren't exactly a happy family, not like yours or Gibbs with Shannon and Kelly, but we at least were semi-functional."

Tim wasn't sure what to say, so he just pressed a gentle kiss to Tony's shoulder. It seemed to work, since his partner kept talking.

"My mother was never strong. I learned later that she had a rough pregnancy with me, and giving birth left her with lots of damage." They were so close, Tim could hear Tony swallow. "My uncle and grandfather blamed me. They didn't say anything until after she died, but looking back, it was visible before that. Once she wasn't there to hold them back, it got ugly. Really ugly. If NCIS had investigated, it would have been one of those cases where Gibbs gets wrath-of-god pissed and the dirtbags are wetting their pants just looking at him."

"Like when he slammed Capt. Watson into the wall at the bank after he admitted to having his family kidnapped so he could steal the money," Tim said quietly, trying to ignore the twisting in his gut.

Tony nodded, his hair brushing Tim's face. "Pretty much. Makes me wish I had a Navy dad like you. Instead, I got my father, who takes the easy way out. He just ignored what was going on. Dealing with it would have been hard. He doesn't like hard. He just slides through life." He sighed. "So my uncle beat me, my grandfather used words instead of fists, and my father just looked the other way. You picked a pretty screwed-up guy to get involved with, Probie."

Tim paused before he spoke, praying he could find the right words.

"I picked a decent, honorable man who went through hell as a kid and used that as incentive to skip the easy life and get down in the trenches and try and clean up the muck and filth." He moved back a bit and pulled Tony until the other man turned over to face him. "We've all got something in our past that's not pretty. You had a family that could team up with Eli David to be the villains in a Shakespeare tragedy. Gibbs had a great childhood, found the love of his life, and had it all taken away because Shannon was doing the right thing and testifying against a drug dealer. Ducky was used by a sociopath to kill a man just because he wanted to save people from torture. And yet we all go out there every day and, instead of using our past to do harm, we let it drive us to do good. We can't control life. All we can control is our reaction to it."

"You've been listening to your self-help CDs again, Tim." But Tony's face softened and relaxed as he said it, and his smile was the real one, not his fake grin.

Tim shrugged. "We all choose our own way to deal with our demons. So what if mine's self-help CDs and an ancient typewriter?"

Tony pulled him close. "I guess we both just need keys to create our demon-fighters."

Tim pulled back. "Huh? Did my DiNozzo-to-Geek translator break?"

Tony started laughing, a deep belly laugh that Tim realized he hadn't heard in too long.

"Want to share the joke?" Tim asked when he finally stopped.

"Sorry, Tim," Tony said. "I didn't tell you about Gibbs and his 'prescription' Thursday night."

"Is this like Ducky's two aspirin and a glass of Scotch?"

Tony shook his head. "No. I found Kelly's piano and started playing it. I have a keyboard at home that I play sometimes, and I just felt like it Thursday night. Gibbs came upstairs while I was playing. After, he told me he could see in my body and hear in the music that I was letting stuff out when I played and suggested I play every night. I'm not sure if it was that or talking to him, but I didn't have any nightmares that night. I played again last night while he was downstairs wearing his elf hat and got another restful night's sleep."

Tim smiled. "Works for me. I'd thank him, but in order for him to appreciate it, we'd have to tell him about us, and I'm not sure I appreciate it that much." He paused to think. "Of course, as glad as I am that he's found something to ease your nightmares, maybe I should rephrase that as I'm not sure there's enough appreciation in the world to make me tell Gibbs we're breaking Rule 12."

Tony snorted. "And that, McSensible, just proves that despite dating me and Abby while working for Gibbs, you're still sane. Sneaky, but sane."

"Speaking of sneaky, we'd better get up and get some dinner before you have to go back to Gibbs," Tim said. "I don't care if Gibbs said he wasn't doing a bed check, he's sure to be downstairs sanding away when you get home."

"Good point." The men reluctantly emerged from under the down comforter and pulled on their clothes. Tim's shirt was crumpled in a heap on the floor, so Tony loaned him a T-shirt.

"Ohio State?" Tim said. "If I wear that out, we're just asking to run into somebody we know. Ducky will be over visiting Gerald, or Ziva will be meeting friends for dinner at that Thai place she likes or something."

"Good point." Tony searched through his drawers until he found a basic black T-shirt. "Come on, let's get going. I'm starving."

"You're always starving, Tony," Tim replied. "I can't imagine what you were like as a teenager."


	36. Chapter 35

Monday morning, Tim headed straight for the lab. Part of him hoped to catch a case so he could get a break from the Damocles evidence. The other part of him knew that it would be easier to stay in the lab with Abby than to work with Tony. Picking out the house and finally learning what Tony had been hiding had just drawn the two men closer together, but concern that Gibbs had figured out they were breaking Rule 12 had them being even more cautious at work. Tony could get away with a lot - from the very beginning he had always been hands-on with Tim. But trying not to return the touching or to react to it differently was getting more difficult the longer they were together. It was like when he and Abby first started dating and she would wrap her arms around him in the lab, keeping him from concentrating. Except this was on a whole other level, like somehow there was a Tony-partition in his brain, one that let him be hyper-aware of Tony and still able to focus on what else was going on around him. He could crack the toughest firewall and encryption, fingers flying across the keyboard as Tony hovered behind him, arm across the back of his chair, every point of contact between them sizzling. Tony let his feelings for Tim color everything he did. Once Tim learned how long Tony had been at least curious about him, he could see that coming across in all the touching, all the questions about his sexuality, all the jokes and nicknames and everything. Not every piece fit, but most of them did. Tim went the other direction - he had two parts of his brain: one reserved for Tony and one for everything else. He could separate the two, but it was a lot more work than when he and Tony were apart and he didn't have to keep the partition strong between the sectors of his brain.

Remembering why he was only willing to be roommates instead of truly living together was getting more and more difficult, too. He wasn't even sure he could label it, just some little nagging constriction that kept his heart from merging with Tony's. Until this weekend, he hadn't realized just how much they were living together already and had been since that night after Ben-Gidon threw Tony into a tailspin, aided and abetted by his miserable excuse for a family. Tim had always hated bullies, acting out against people weaker than themselves. The one time he had taken down a bully in interrogation to get information about an abducted Navy lieutenant's cell phone, he had finally realized just how pathetic bullies were, how they could be scared by somebody bigger than them. After hearing about Tony's past, Tim wished he could hunt down Tony's grandfather and uncle and channel Gibbs long enough to throw the fear of God into them. It took a sick and twisted mind to beat an 8-year-old.

He forced himself to put his feelings back into the Tony-partition and walked into the lab ready to focus on a stack of formerly soggy electronics.

"Morning, McGee," Abby said.

"You OK, Abbs? You look... tired." Tim frowned. "Did you decide to give up caffeine again?"

"No, just coming down with something, I think," she said. "So how did your weekend go?"

He thought about how to say what he needed to say, how he could make Abby think he had broken up with his "girlfriend." Now that Tony seemed to have found a solution for his nightmares and was talking about them, it's possible she wouldn't connect his imaginary girlfriend to Tony, but he didn't want to take the chance. Abby was too good at assembling fragments of evidence into a complete picture. "Not so great." Tim frowned. "You know the person I've been seeing?"

"Nightmare Girl? Yeah. Was she glad to finally get some quality time with you?"

He shrugged. "Unfortunately 'quality time' turned out to be too much time. She ended it yesterday. Said she didn't think we were compatible."

"Oh, Timmy!"

Abby reached to hug him, but he held out his hands. "Abbs, if I get a cold just as Tony and I start sharing an apartment, I'm going to have Brad, Gibbs and Ducky after me."

She pouted. "Good point." The goth stepped back and wrapped her arms around herself. "There, I'm hugging you in my mind."

Tim couldn't help but smile. "Thanks, Abbs. I appreciate it."

Before he could say anything else, Tony walked in.

"Tony!" Abby said.

"Abbs," Tim warned.

"Right, not going to hug him," Abby said.

Tony frowned. "I'm not huggable any more?"

"Oh, no, you're very huggable," Abby said. "But I've got a cold, and Tim already said he couldn't hug me because he's afraid he'll be killed for getting you sick."

"Thanks, McMom," Tony said. "Hey, Gibbs wants you back upstairs. Ziva just got a lead on a cold case; he wants us all there."

When they got off the elevator upstairs, Gibbs and Ziva were standing in front of the plasma.

"Found McComputerChip, Boss. What do we have?" Tony asked.

Ziva started explaining her theory. Tim figured out pretty quickly where she was going with it.

"This sounds like the same thing that Voss did," he said.

"Voss?" Ziva asked.

"Before your time," Gibbs said.

"Lt. Commander Hamilton Voss rigged credit cards with a dummy company making tiny charges to thousands of cards. No one charge was all that big, but he netted more than $10 million before they caught him." Tim frowned. "Was Pacci the original agent on that case, Boss, or did he pick it up on cold case review?"

"Original," Gibbs said.

Catching Ziva's confused look, Tim explained. "Chris Pacci was killed by Voss when he found a lead on the case a few years later. Gibbs, Tony and Kate took over."

"Not you?"

"Probie wasn't even on the team yet," Tony said. "Pacci asked him to look into the car wreck that had supposedly killed Voss three years earlier since the county courthouse wasn't too far from Norfolk. When he called Pacci at home to tell him he'd found it, Kate and I were there searching for clues to his death." He sighed.

Tim fought back a shudder at the memory. "That was a rough one. Tony ordered me to bring the file up, Gibbs got me a TAD here for the case, and it got hinky pretty quickly."

"You think this might be the same thing, McGee?" Gibbs asked.

"We've got missing money that never turned up, the person who was in prison has been out but hasn't shown any signs of having the money, and his suspected accomplice supposedly went overboard from a destroyer and her body was never recovered. Sounds like a possible faked death to me."

Tony nodded. "That case on the Seahawk showed just how easy it is to fake a death overboard," he said.

"So how did you catch Voss?" Ziva said.

"He bought his old family home," Tony said. "Pacci kept an eye on the property and when he found out about the sale, he started following her."

"Her?" Ziva said. "Voss had somebody else buy the property for him?"

Tony frowned and shifted uncomfortably from side to side. "No. He had a second identity set up years earlier, as a woman. We caught him... her... whatever, right before she left for Thailand to have surgery."

"Really?" Ziva asked. "And you couldn't tell?"

"No, I definitely couldn't tell," Tony said, shuddering.

Tim resisted the urge to step over to him and offer comfort. "Tony was with her at a bar when Gibbs and Kate found out," he said. "It went bad quickly, and she was about to walk out the door when Gibbs and Kate walked in. She drew on Gibbs, but he was faster."

"Damn bastard murdered Pacci," Gibbs said. "Wasn't going to let him walk."

"We appreciated it, Boss. Would have liked it more if you had found out five minutes earlier, though."

"Why?" Ziva asked.

Tim looked at Tony, then at Gibbs. One of them had to tell Ziva, but he didn't want it to be him. He could hear Kate's repeated taunts to Tony about "tonguing a guy" and all of a sudden what had seemed like a straightfoward case summary got much trickier. He reminded himself that whatever Tony said, he shouldn't take it personally.

Gibbs finally spoke. "When I called the first time, bitch was kissing DiNozzo."

Tony moved his mouth like he was tasting something awful. "Ziva, whatever you're about to say, I don't want to hear it."

"Why would you assume..." her voice trailed off, and Tim could hear the hurt.

"Ziva, Tony didn't mean anything," he said. "It's just... Kate gave him a hard time about it. Brought it up any time Tony irritated her."

"It was out of line," Gibbs said. "Should have stopped her."

Ziva frowned. "But Tony, I have heard you often ask McGee if he is gay. I do not understand what the problem is, if those comments are acceptable, why this was not."

Tim could feel the quicksand up around his knees and knew he should stay still and wait for a rescue, but couldn't help wading in deeper. "Tony... Tony didn't mean anything by it when he teased me. Well, OK, most of the time. But Kate..."

"Kate didn't get it," Tony said. "Pacci was a good guy, probably the agent I was closest to outside our team. Finding out I'd kissed the guy who'd killed him and ripped his guts out? That was..."

"Yes. I believe I understand, Tony," Ziva said.

Tim felt tension release from his shoulders. He'd never said this to Tony, but the senior agent's reaction to Voss and Kate's comments were one of the main reasons he'd never figured Tony would be interested in him. He'd been so obviously disgusted at what had happened, and Tim just assumed - based on his reactions to Kate's comments - that it was because he was kissing a guy. But Tony's explanation made more sense. Tim took a deep breath and felt his heart expand, released from a constriction he didn't know was there. He didn't even realize he was grinning until Gibbs barked at him.

"McGee."

"Huh?" Tim looked around. The other team members were looking at him. "Sorry, Boss." He paused. "Um, what was the question?"

"As interested as I am to learn about Tony's experiments with men, what does this Voss case have to do with the Cooper case?" Ziva asked.

"Oh, right." Tim forced his thoughts back on track. "Voss created a separate identity to hide the money. If we can look into Lt. Commander Cooper's past and search for common threads, we might be able to do what Pacci did and find whoever she turned into."

"Good McThinking," Tony said.

"What are you waiting for?" Gibbs said. "Start tracking."

At the end of the day, they still hadn't found anything conclusive, though Tim's computer was humming as he set it to run more database searches overnight.

"Go on, go home," Gibbs said. "We'll start fresh tomorrow. 0700."

"Ah, Boss?" Tony said. "Brad had to move my appointment to Tuesday this week because he had a conflict Thursday."

"Right, except for DiNozzo, who'll report as soon as Brad's done with him."

The three younger agents headed out, each leaving in their separate cars. Tim knew when he arrived home that Tony wouldn't be far behind him, and his parents would be along in about an hour.

Tim took a pan of lasagna Tony had made a few weeks earlier from the freezer, turned the oven on, and put the dish in to start heating. By the time he had changed into jeans and a sweatshirt, Tony was in the living room wrestling with Jethro.

He stood there for a minute, just watching the other two members of his family having fun.

"You've got that same grin on your face that you had in the bullpen this afternoon, Tim. Care to share?"

"Just enjoying being with the man I love and our faithful dog," he said.

"Our dog?" Tony said. "Did I sign adoption papers in my sleep?" He smiled and continued wrestling with Jethro as he said it.

"No. I just... I realized today that this... us? It's real, as real as it gets. And it's not going anywhere. And I think blue is a great color for a bedroom."

Tony stopped and sat up. "You mean you... Really? You're not just saying that? Because if you're not ready, it's OK."

"Tony, I'm ready. I want us to be as much a couple as we can be. I can't give you a ring or anything, and if you ask my dad for his blessing when they show up, Sarah's going to razz us forever when she hears about it, but yes, I'm ready."

Tim found himself on the floor, tackled by Tony into a huge hug. When they finally came up for air, Tim started laughing.

"What's so funny?" Tony said, indignant.

"I think you just broke Abby's record for most enthusiastic hug ever delivered," he said. "She's knocked us each back a time or two, but I've never seen her knock anybody over."

"Good point. I don't think we'll tell her that, though."

"No, that wouldn't be good. Not now that I have her all upset that my 'girlfriend' broke up with me." Tim smiled. "If she ever figures this out, you know she's going to kill us both."

"And then we're going to have to borrow a scanner to check for hidden cameras in our bedroom," Tony said. He smiled. "That's so cool saying 'our bedroom.'"

Tim nodded. "I know. But before you get sidetracked where that smirk tells me you want to go, remember my parents are going to be here soon to take Jethro for the next couple of weeks until we move in, so we don't have to deal with him and packing at the same time."

"Oh, right." Tony stood up and reached down to offer a hand to Tim. "Come on, McMutt, let's get your gear packed for a trip to Grandma and Grandpa's house."

Tim rolled his eyes and laughed as he headed for the kitchen to check on the lasagna.

He had just finished setting the table and taking the lasagna out of the oven when he heard a knock on the door.

"I'll get it," Tony said.

Tim could hear Tony greet his parents. "Tim's just taking dinner out of the oven," he said.

His dad and Tony found seats on the living room side of the counter while his mom walked into the kitchen and hugged him. "Tim, this smells delicious."

"I can't take credit," Tim replied. "Tony made this a few weeks ago and froze it. All I did was heat it up."

"In that case, Tony, you'll have to give me the recipe unless it's an old family secret. This smells much better than my lasagna."

Tim decided there was no comment he could make about his preference that wouldn't get somebody upset at him, so he settled for dishing up four plates of lasagna with salad on the side. As he set them down, his dad started a coughing fit. Tony reached over and hit him on the back a couple times.

"Thanks," his dad said once he stopped coughing.

"Not a problem," Tony said. "I know how it feels."

Tim frowned. "Dad, is that the same cold you've been fighting?"

His father nodded. "Just doesn't seem to go away."

"Not just that," Eileen said. "It's getting worse."

Tim looked over at Tony, who nodded slightly.

"Dad, if it doesn't get better soon, you should really get that looked at," Tim said.

Tony chimed in. "Brad told me most of his other lung patients are sailors and former sailors who were exposed to asbestos on ships."

Tim's dad shook his head. "I'm fine. It's just a cold. If it's not better in a few weeks, I'll go to the doctor."

Tim didn't like it — he was getting to be an expert on coughs thanks to Tony, and his dad didn't sound fine. But his parents planned to help them move weekend after next, so if his dad was still coughing, he could sic Ducky on him.


	37. Chapter 36

The next morning, Tony bounded into Brad's office.

"Either you've started mainlining Gibbs' coffee or you're having a really good week," Brad greeted him.

Tony just grinned at him.

"You going to share, or do I have to guess?"

Tony handed him the paperwork he and Tim had filled out to make Tim a medical proxy.

Brad scanned it and raised one eyebrow. "So you're happy because you told Gibbs and lived to tell the tale?"

Tony snorted. "It's not that cold out," he said. "We still haven't told Gibbs, but he did suggest since Tim and I will be living together, I add him as a medical proxy. He actually brought it up."

"And you're sure he doesn't know?"

Tony scrubbed his hands across his face. "Brad, don't go there. Tim and I have discussed it every which way, and we've convinced ourselves that he does know and then talked ourselves into thinking he doesn't and then back to the beginning at least a dozen times. If you get me started down that path again, you'll need to take me over to neurology to have them unmelt my overheated brain."

"There are so many comments I could make right now," Brad said. "You should be glad I have the good taste not to say them."

"It is physically impossible for a Wolverine to have good taste," Tony retorted. "Unless you're referring to your good taste in being friends with me."

"Sure, I save your life and still can't get any respect," Brad shot back. "Just what does it take with you Buckeyes?"

"Hey, if I ever have the chance to save your life, I'm on it," Tony said.

"Let's just concentrate on saving your career right now," Brad said, suddenly serious.

Tony felt a heavy weight settle along his spine. "I thought you said you'd call if the tests turned anything up?"

Brad folded his hands and sat up straight. "The tests aren't showing any declines. That's the good news."

"And the bad news?" Tony was sure this wasn't like Abby's good news/bad news approach where the good news made up in spades for whatever she hadn't found.

"Between your breathing exercises and the other changes you've made, I had hoped to see at least a slight improvement by now," Brad said. "We've been tracking this for more than a month. I had hoped to see some improvement two weeks ago, and was sure we'd have made progress by last week."

Dread curled in Tony's belly, suffocating whatever was left of his good mood from the night before. "So now what?"

"Now we start getting a little more aggressive, especially with cold and flu season approaching."

"It's already here," Tony said. "Abby was sneezing today." At the look on Brad's face, he hastened to reassure the doctor. "I stayed back, and Tim told her she can't hug either of us until she's better."

Brad just looked at him for a second. "OK, first, tell Tim you owe him one. He's got good instincts. You should stay away from Abby until she's better."

"It's that biomedical degree from Johns Hopkins," Tony said. "He knows this stuff."

"I'll make sure to send him extra-detailed information, then, since he can understand it." Brad made a note on the paper in front of him.

"More information is good. If you don't give it to him, he'll start searching for it, and when he works his computer magic, there's nothing he can't find." Tony smiled. "We close a lot of cases a lot faster because of him."

"Good to know," Brad said. "Now the second thing. How exactly do you expect to keep secrets at work when Tim's telling Abby she can't hug either of you?"

"He told her you, Gibbs and Ducky would kill him if she got him sick right as we moved in together," Tony said. "She said there was no way she was messing with the three of you." He smirked. "Besides, Tim's been McMoming me at work since this happened. And he's the only one who can talk sense into Abby when she's on a tear, except maybe Gibbs. Tim learned how when they were dating. Gibbs is, well, Gibbs."

"Wait a minute. So Tim used to date Abby, and now he's dating you?"

Tony nodded. "It was back before he was even on the team. After he joined the team, they decided they were better off as friends. And if you ever see them in the lab? It's like they share a brain. That's about the only reason I considered starting something with things go badly when I end it with women, or they end it with me. They've done everything from egg my car — my poor Mustang — to accuse me of murder. Tim? He stays best friends with his ex and works with her every day."

Brad just shook his head. "Think he could teach me that trick? I can't top your tales, but there's a couple of exes at the hospital I could stand to be on better terms with."

"Nipping at the nurses, Pitt? Nurse Emma one of them?" Tony smirked.

"More like dabbling with the doctors, DiNozzo." Pitt smirked right back. "Nurse Emma was more your style. At least she would have liked to be."

"Hey, no rubbing missed conquests in my face," Tony said. "I'm starring in all the sappy rom-coms right now with my own life. No need to turn this into a drama."

Brad leaned back in his chair and laughed. "And people wonder why you're my favorite patient? This is fun."

"Hey, Gibbs doesn't keep me around just for my stellar investigative skills," Tony said. "Official MCRT clown is written in my job description. It's on Page 3, between harassing the Autopsy Gremlin and correcting Ziva's mangled idioms."

He let Brad laugh, then took a deep breath. "I do know how to be serious, you know. It's a closely guarded secret, available only to certain people. Lasts for 15 minutes each hour. Spit out what you have to say. I can take it." At least, he hoped he could take it.

Brad nodded. "I'll give it to you straight. I want to start you on some drugs. Nothing too heavy duty, but they might have some side effects. The major ones will be from the prednisone, a steroid to help with your lungs."

Tony groaned. "I was on prednisone in college for a few days. I know all about it."

Brad nodded. "That was probably a descending dose, right? Six pills the first day, five the next, and so on."

"It was a long time ago, but I think so. Something like that."

"This is different. We'll do a medium dose treatment for about six weeks, then stop and do some major breath therapy for six weeks. The steroids will help with your lung function, get you to a place where you can tolerate the intense therapy. We'll see how things go after the first cycle. For most of my patients, I end up cycling them three or four times, but you're not in as bad shape."

"Side effects?"

"I'm not going to lie to you, Tony. It has a bunch, and some of them could make it tough for you in the field: muscle weakness, dizziness, weight gain, high blood pressure. Traditionally, long-term treatment is a lower dose, but I've had some good results with the cycling method. I'm getting ready to start a study through NIH to see determine if it's more effective than some of the newer, costlier drugs the big pharmaceutical companies have been working on."

"First I star in your journal articles, now I'm your guinea pig?" Tony grinned so it was clear to Brad he was joking.

"It's the price you pay for being a medical miracle, Tony," Brad said. "Seriously, though, you're not part of the study. I'll use some of the same treatments on you, but my goal is to keep you field-worthy. That won't fit in any standard study."

"You mean you don't have many patients looking for you to patch them up so they can go out and get shot at and get patched up again?" Tony smirked. "I always said I was a very special agent."

"Very special pain in the ass is what I heard, " Brad retorted. He checked his watch. "OK, let's get down to business or Gibbs will have my head for making you late."

"Yeah, and we've got a lead on a cold case. McGeek is probably overheating his computer right now trying to track the dirtbag." Tony sat up straight. "So what do I need to do besides the drugs?"

"First of all, stay away from Abby until she's over her cold," Brad said. "How difficult will that be?"

"Not too difficult," Tony said. "She's usually in the lab working whatever magic she does analyzing evidence for things like rare mold on rope and exotic strains of flu in snot left at the scene."

"And that's my second restriction. No going in the lab unless absolutely necessary, and then only wearing a mask." Brad made another note. "There are too many chemicals and other things, especially since you don't know what rides in on evidence."

Tony nodded. "Can you call Gibbs and tell him these things? Because he's the only one who can tell this to Abby and survive. I want to make sure he knows you're serious about this."

"Will do," Brad said. "Also, wear a hat that covers your ears and a scarf unless it's warm enough that you don't need a jacket." He grinned. "And if you don't wear one, but Tim or Gibbs does, you need to put one on. I'll make sure to tell Gibbs that."

"Now you're just evil," Tony said. "Looks like a shopping trip in my future. Have to find something to keep up my reputation as a fashion god."

Brad just rolled his eyes. "If anybody else comes down with a cold, flu, or respiratory infection, stay away from them until 24 hours after symptoms stop -- including Tim. If that's impossible, wear a mask and wipe everything down with alcohol after contact."

"Great," Tony said. "I'll look like Ms. OCD with her wipes."

At Brad's quizzical look, he explained, "One of the analysts is germ-phobic."

"You probably should learn from her," Brad said.

"Yeah, yeah," Tony said. "Anything else?"

"Be careful around anything with fumes - cleaners, paints, anything like that."

"Paint?" Tony said. "Tim and I were going to paint a room at our house Saturday. It's NCIS orange, and we get enough of that at work."

Brad frowned. "Get a low-vapor paint and wear a face mask, keep the windows open, and use fans to make sure there is plenty of ventilation."

"In other words, time for me to raid Autopsy," Tony said.

Brad laughed. "Only you, Tony."

Tony thought for a second. "No, actually pretty much everybody else on the team would do the same." He grinned. "Anything else?"

"No, that's it. I'll call Gibbs."

"OK, back to tracking dirtbags. Hopefully McSearchEngine has cornered this guy, or Gibbs will be in a worse mood than normal." Tony got up to leave.

"You know, it's a good thing I know you're head-over-heels for Tim or I'd have to wonder listening to your McNicknames for him," Brad said.

"How exactly do you think I let him know I care with Eagle-Ear Gibbs sitting across from us?" Tony said, grin returning to his face. "It's perfect — everybody thinks I'm annoying him except him." His face softened into a genuine smile. "He knows what I mean."

"You know, if you weren't so obviously happy, you'd be really annoying," Brad said. "Come on, let's get you tested."

Half an hour later, Tony was on his way back to the Navy Yard. When he walked in, Gibbs was leaning against his desk, arms crossed. Tim and Ziva were sitting at their desks working, but Tony caught Tim glancing up at him as he entered the bullpen.

"Brad called?" Tony said.

Gibbs nodded.

"Did you tell her?"

Gibbs jerked his head. "Wanted to see you first. You OK?"

Tony nodded. "Fine. Just need to ask Ducky to requisition a few dozen extra masks so I'm not banished until cold and flu season ends."

Gibbs nodded back. "Call him. Then help McGee."

As soon as the team leader had left, Tim looked over at him. "Masks?"

"Brad's been taking McMom lessons," he replied. "I'm banished from the lab unless I wear a mask, and I have to wear one around anybody who's sick."

"Anybody?" Tim said.

Tony thought for a second. "He said anybody. I think if you get sick, I get to find a new home for a couple of days."

"Not just..." Tim paused a second. "Would it help if I slept in the study if I was sick, keep the second floor germ-free?"

Tony shook his head, glad Tim had not said what he had started to say. "I don't think so. He wants me making like Jardine around anybody who's sick. I don't think there are enough alcohol wipes in the metro area to wipe down the entire house if you're sick."

"You could stay with Gibbs," Ziva said. "He does not seem to get sick."

Tony nodded. "And he worries even more than McMom here, even if he doesn't show it."

"I'm always going to worry, Tony," Tim said. "As nice as it is not to be the probie any more, I'm not looking to become senior field agent any time soon."

"Good to know," Tony said. "Brad's sending you a whole list of information."

"Why McGee?" Ziva asked.

"He's the one who has to live with this, Zee-vah," Tony said. "Or at least he will in two weeks."

"Tony, did Brad say anything about painting Saturday?" Tim asked.

"Yes, McMindReader." He recounted the list of restrictions.

"Let's hope the weather's not too cold, if we have to have the windows open," Tim said. "It's going to take a while to paint that room."

"Would you like some help?" Ziva asked. "I will help, and I'm sure Palmer and Abby will help as well."

"No Abby," Tony said. "That's what Gibbs is down there telling her now. I can't go near her until 24 hours after she's over her cold, and I can't go in the lab at all without a mask."

"Palmer, then," Ziva said. "I'm sure he can bring some masks as well."

"Well, he is the Autopsy Gremlin," Tony said.

"It is settled, then," Ziva said. "We will help paint. And do you need help moving as well?"

Tony nodded. "That's next weekend," he said. "Gibbs already agreed to help."

"Sarah and my parents are going to help, too," Tim said.

"Then I will go talk to Palmer and Ducky," Ziva said.

"Thanks, Zee," Tony said. "We can use the help."

"Oh, it is no problem," Ziva replied. "We do not want you and McGee to kill each other before you even get moved in."

Before Tony could reply, Gibbs walked back into the bullpen.


	38. Chapter 37

Gibbs heard the elevator ding behind him as he entered the bullpen, and he moved to one side to avoid the blue haz-mat suit-clad forensic scientist racing into the bullpen.

"Tony!" Abby said, wrapping her arms around him. "Gibbs told me, and I had to come up and give you a hug."

At least that was what it sounded like she said. The suit muffled her words.

Gibbs held back a smirk as McGee and Ziva just stared at the sight. After a few seconds, McGee found his voice.

"I never knew they had an Abby Smurf," he said, sending Tony into gales of laughter. Gibbs found his own lips twitching at the thought. He looked over to see a bewildered Ziva.

"What is a- a Smurf?" she asked.

"You know, the little blue guys with the pointy hats in the cartoons," McGee said. "I used to love watching them when I was a kid."

"So they are snow elves?" Ziva said. "With the fur and the pointy ears, yes? You dressed up as one for Halloween one year."

Gibbs had to bite the inside of his lip to keep from cracking a smile. McGee looked like his head was going to explode as he opened his mouth and shut it again a few times, searching for an explanation. Tony was doubled over laughing, and Abby was looking at them wondering what she'd missed. Gibbs quickly signed the gist of the discussion, sending Abby jumping up and down in delight. That just sent Tony into more spasms of laughter, which quickly turned into hacking coughs. He fumbled for his backpack. Tim rushed over, taking Abby by the arms and moving her aside. He reached into the front pocket of Tony's backpack, pulled something out, and handed it to Tony. The senior field agent pushed himself up. Gibbs recognized the odd shape of an inhaler as Tony stuck it in his mouth and squeezed. Tim squatted in front of him and watched Tony's face. Gibbs saw him start to reach a hand for Tony's shoulder, then pull it back. Gibbs looked around, but Ziva had her eyes fixed on Tony's face.

Abby looked over at him and signed "I'm sorry."

"I know," he signed back. "Go get Ducky, then go back to your lab. I'll tell Tony you're sorry."

She nodded and headed out of the bullpen for the elevators. Once her blue plastic-clad figure left the bullpen, Gibbs walked over to stand by Tony's desk.

"DiNozzo?"

Tony held up one finger, then let out a big breath. "I'm OK, Boss. Just couldn't catch my breath there for a minute."

"Ducky's on his way up. Abby went to get him."

"Boss, I'm OK."

"Humor me, DiNozzo."

"Yes, Boss."

"Abby said she's sorry."

Tim spoke up. "I'm sorry, too, Tony."

"As am I," Ziva said. "Although I do not understand what I said that was so funny."

"Well-"

"McGee." Gibbs had trained the junior field agent well enough to stop talking at his voice. "After DiNozzo goes with Ducky, you can explain. Or try to."

"Yes, Boss," McGee said.

It was then Gibbs noticed Vance standing on the walkway outside MTAC watching the scene. The director raised a single eyebrow, but Gibbs didn't acknowledge the unspoken question.

That sent the second eyebrow up, followed by a jerk of the head in the direction of Vance's office. Gibbs realized hecouldn't avoid the director's not-so-subtle request to talk and headed upstairs.

As soon as Gibbs closed the office door, Vance spoke. "Why is Miss Scuito acting like a deranged Smurf in the bullpen?"

Gibbs' lips quirked upward. "Pitt doesn't want DiNozzo in the lab without a mask or near her until she's over this cold."

"He getting worse?"

"No worse, but no better either. Starting him on some drugs to help his lungs."

"Serious?"

"Not going to affect his field status," Gibbs said. "And he's not much use in the lab beyond bouncing theories around, which he can do with the camera. If McGee was banned from the lab, then we'd have trouble."

Vance nodded. "I'll be keeping an eye on this, Gibbs. I don't want to lose DiNozzo, but I don't want one of you hurt because he pulls up short in the field, either."

"Won't happen, Leon. I'm keeping an eye on him."

"Good. You do that."

Gibbs turned and walked out. Time to get back to the bullpen and make sure Tony and McGee were holding up OK.

 

****

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Thursday night, they were at Tony's place to pack his stuff. Tim carried more boxes into the bedroom, only to find Tony staring at himself in the mirror by his closet.

"Tony?"

The other man growled. "What's the point?"

"You lost me."

"This." He waved a hand at his packed closet. "What's the point of moving it all? None of it fits. It's never going to fit as long as Brad has me on this stuff." He took a suit jacket off a hanger and put it on over his T-shirt. He tried to pull it closed, but there was a good inch between the button and its hole. "Three days I've been on this stuff, and I've already gained about 10 pounds. At this rate I'm going to be stuck wearing those hideous suits you brought up here from Norfolk."

Tim felt the barb sink home but forced himself to ignore it. Tony was having a rough week. First the coughing fit at work, then the new drug and its side effects — tossing and turning all night, gaining weight, being grumpier than Gibbs on a bad day. Brad had told him to expect them, but Tony, being Tony, had figured they wouldn't be too bad. He'd survived the plague, often healed more quickly than the doctors anticipated, and all using far less of his sick time than the agency allotted. Brad called him a medical miracle for a reason. But Tony couldn't escape reality forever. Tim could explain to Tony what was behind it, all the medical and chemical reasons for it, but the senior field agent wouldn't care. All he knew was that instead of setting the curve, he was struggling to be average, and average was something Tony hated. Tim summoned up as much patience as he could muster.

"I tossed those suits years ago," he said. "And they would be too big on you anyway."

"Really? Really, Tim? They would be too big on me? Because I feel like the Michelin man." He yanked off the jacket and tossed it on the floor.

Tim put the boxes on the bed and pulled him in for a hug. "It's the medication, Tony. It's making you grumpy and tired."

"And fat," Tony said. "Don't forget that."

Tim took a deep breath. "Look, you're meeting with Brad next week. Talk to him. Maybe he can reduce the dose or find something else to put you on."

"I guess." Tony turned away from the mirror and grabbed a box off the bed. "I'll take the dresser."

Tim set up a box near the closet, figuring it would be easier on both of them if he dealt with the suits and button-down shirts. He had folded about a dozen shirts when he noticed Tony standing next to him.

"Tim, don't even bother. I can't button them, or if I can button them, the buttons are threatening to pop and knock someone's eye out." Tony frowned.

"Tony."

"Tim, you don't get it."

"I don't? You think I don't get it?" Tim just stared at him. After all the cracks Tony had made about his weight when he first started on the team, Tony thought he wouldn't get it?

"No, Tim, you don't."

Tim just raised his eyebrow.

"I've seen all the photos of you as a teenager. You were all skinny and geeky, and then you ended up chubby from too much time in front of a computer. But now you're in this good place where you don't look like somebody built you out of pick-up sticks and you're not all round and baby-faced."

Tim just waited, biting back the words he wanted to say.

"Me, I've always been hot. Those teen years, when it's zits and braces and awkwardness? Never happened. Just kept playing sports and looking good at school. Everybody liked me there. I was Big Man on Campus. Could do no wrong. And then in college? Starter on the two big teams. Pro potential. Strong, fast and hot." Tony grinned, the big one that never reached his eyes. "You don't know what it's like to lose that hotness, because you just found yours."

"OK. So you don't feel hot anymore, and you're mad because I am." Tim huffed. "Any time you want, I'll trade my 18 years of not-hotness for your three days of it, and you can sit through having the hot jocks torment you. Until then, just get back to packing." He turned toward the closet and reached blindly for a fistful of hangers.

"Tim. I didn't mean..."

"Yeah, well obviously you did or you wouldn't have said it," Tim said. "Just get back to packing and stop whining." He half-expected Tony to continue pleading his case — this was Tony after all — but all he heard was the scuff of bare feet on the wood floor.

As he slid shirts off their hangers and carefully folded them, placing each one precisely on top of the next in the cardboard box, he thought about Tony's words. Tony's actions. His own. Not quite as bad as that time aboard the Chimera when he told Tony that until he died, he needed to help Tim figure out what was wrong with the black ship's electrical system. But bad. Tony just went too far sometimes. Tim had listened to Ducky's psychological profiling long enough. He knew, in his head, that Tony needed to convince himself he was wonderful to silence the self-doubting thoughts implanted by his screwed-up family. If he had gone through the kind of torment Tim had endured in school while also dealing with the family from hell, he might have broken. Tim survived the teasing he'd been subjected to in school, because of his family. Looking back now, he could appreciate that the teasing had made him tougher. Well, mostly. Just like Tony ragging him every minute of his first few years on the team had made him a better field agent. But there was a line. Tony's demons didn't mean he was exempt from crossing that line.

He sighed. As much as he wanted to turn around and pull Tony into his arms, he couldn't. Sure, it would buy some momentary peace. But it wouldn't solve the problem. Tim didn't mind taking teasing from Tony at work. He gave back as good as he got, and it was just part of their relationship, a way of coping with the filth they found while investigating. But they had to be that safe space for each other outside of work as well. Tim had to know Tony was there for him, and Tony had to know the same. No matter how bad things got. Tim knew comments like Tony's earlier would erode that trust. If he let this go, the next time Tony irritated him, he would give in to his snarky side and snap at him. Then Tony would be less willing to trust, something he was only truly beginning to do anyway. They couldn't afford that. Not at work, where Gibbs would notice and point to them as proof of Rule 12. And not at home, particularly now that they were moving in together. This wasn't like any of their breakups with previous girlfriends, where they could just move on. Especially since everybody thought they were just friends to start with. They needed to find a way to deal with problems so they wouldn't turn into a death spiral of snark.

He sighed again. Unfortunately, it felt like to make this work he was forced to wait on Tony to realize it, too.

He finished with the dress shirts and moved on to the suits. Tim opened the first of the wardrobe boxes Tony had picked up so the suits could stay on their hangers. He eyed it, then the suits, calculating how many could fit inside without getting squished and wrinkled.

He was so engrossed in his thoughts, he missed the sound of Tony's feet moving toward him. The next thing he knew, Tony had taken the hangers from his hand and thrown them on the bed.

"Tim, I'm sorry," he said. "I was out of line."

"Yes, you were," Tim replied, tone even.

"I just..." His eyes looked toward the floor.

Tim reached out and tipped his chin up so they were eye-to-eye.

"I got scared. It's like... You know how there are always a few girls in school who are cute and hot? The cheerleaders, the stars?"

Tim nodded.

"And then you go back for a reunion, and they're not so cute. Some of them have gained weight, and now that they're not hot, there's just nothing there. They got by in life by being pretty. And when that's gone, they have nothing left." He sighed. "That's what I'm afraid of. I know that's not the case. In my head, I know Gibbs wouldn't keep me around if I wasn't good at my job, especially for as long as I've been on his team. But a lot of what I got in life, I got by being a hot jock. And my jock days are over now. I can't even laugh without doubling over in a coughing fit, and to top it off I'm getting fat, too. All that's left is for my hair to fall out, and then what's the point of you having me around." Tony ran a hand through his hair. "I was wrong, Tim. I was wrong to yell at you, and I was wrong to say that this is worse than what you went through, because it's not. Can you forgive me?"

Tim nodded and pulled him close. "I know you didn't mean it," he said. "That didn't make it hurt any less, but it does mean I'm not going to make you grovel." He pulled back and smiled at Tony, who smiled back. Then he head slapped him. "And that's for thinking I'm going to love you any less because of your looks or your hair or your health. We don't stay 20 forever. We change. You can argue that if you hadn't had the plague, you wouldn't be coughing because Abby turned into a human cartoon. But you can also argue that if Shannon and Kelly hadn't been killed, Gibbs never would have joined NCIS. We don't know what's coming, and we can't plan for it. We're not acting in a vacuum here. We're just muddling our way through the best we can, and we're doing it together."

"Next time, I start acting like an ass, do just what you did," Tony said. "Just call me on it. Like Gibbs does with the headslaps. I might be a jerk sometimes, but I'm not an idiot."

"Yeah, you're a jerk. But you're my jerk," Tim said. "Come on, let's get the rest of this packed. Then maybe we can find a way to burn off some of those calories you're worried about."

 

****

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The next morning, Gibbs steeled himself as he walked into Vance's office for their morning meeting. The director had been watching the bullpen from on high all week, and it needed to stop.

"DiNozzo looks like a truck ran him over." Vance tried to pin Gibbs with his glare, but the team leader just walked over to the wet bar to pour himself a glass of water.

"New medication has him a bit out of sorts. Ducky says that's pretty common. Tony's going to talk to the doc next week and see if he can get it adjusted."

"And if he can't?"

"Not sure how much more I can tell you, Leon. Pitt spoke to me and sent McGee more information because we're his proxies. I think you'll have to ask DiNozzo for details."

Vance raised a single eyebrow. "McGee's his medical proxy?"

Gibbs nodded. "I suggested it to DiNozzo. They're going to be roommates in a couple of weeks. So most of the time, he'll be running with McGee. Something happens, McGee will be right there, not me."

"They actually agreed to live together?" Vance stared at him.

"They're moving in next weekend," Gibbs said. "I'll make sure they do the paperwork to change their address."

The director nodded. "You'll send DiNozzo up?"

Gibbs frowned. "You plan on interrogating him?"

"Just want to know what's going on."

Gibbs shook his head. "Man's got enough on his mind. You start asking questions, he's going to think you want to fire him."

"Want to make sure he's OK."

"Not that simple." Gibbs thought about what he needed to say. "Still thinks Agent Afloat was punishment. Israel, too."

"Your boy thinks more of himself than any other two agents we have."

Gibbs shook his head. "Just better at acting that way." He smiled. "Reverse of McGee. DiNozzo's got talent, instincts, experience. Still always thinks he's just one step away from being booted. That's why he talks himself up. McGee's just as good with technology and analysis, but he knows it. Sometimes forgets there's more to know. They make a good team."

Vance nodded. "We saw that in Somalia. What I'm starting to wonder is just how good a team they make."

Gibbs waited, not wanting to give anything away.

"There wasn't any love lost there while your team was split up," Vance said. "McGee didn't even seem to want DiNozzo back when you first asked him, just David. Now he and DiNozzo are living together. I want to know how closely."

"You implying something, Leon?"

"You're not the only one who watches without being noticed, Gibbs. Not the only one who can read between the lines, either."

"I haven't seen anything problematic among my team members," Gibbs said. "Any of my team members."

"Would you tell me if you did?"

Gibbs felt his temper begin a slow burn. "Not putting my people in jeopardy, Leon."

"Not saying you would, Gibbs. Not saying it's a problem - _if_ I'm right about what's going on. But I need to know."

"Need to know, Leon? Or want to know?"


	39. Chapter 38

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Huge thanks to Kyrie, especially on the past couple of chapters, for pushing me to make them better!!!!

Saturday morning, Tim headed to the house while Tony went to buy the paint and painting supplies. He couldn't resist grinning as he unlocked the front door of the house. Their house.

He opened the study windows as wide as they would go and set up the box fans he'd brought from home to increase the ventilation Brad had insisted on. He set one in the window and the other in the doorway, then stepped around it to answer the front door at the sound of the bell.

"Morning, Ziva, Palmer," Tim said. "Thanks for coming to help."

"Anytime, McGee," Palmer said. "I brought plenty of masks. Dr. Mallard made me take a dozen of them, just in case." He walked into the room. "Whoa! This is even brighter than the bullpen. It feels like Agent Gibbs should come walking in any minute now." He looked around, as if he was waiting for the headslap. "Good thing they didn't decide on the yellow trim at headquarters, or we'd all have nightmares."

"And now you know why we want to paint it," Tim said.

"Where is Tony?" Ziva asked.

"He's picking up the paint and supplies on his way here," Tim said. "I can call him."

"No need, Probie," Tony said, walking in the door. "I'm right here. The rest of the paint is in my trunk."

"I'll get it," Palmer said. He scrambled outside, almost tripping over the door jamb.

"Before we do anything, Tony, put the mask on," Tim said.

His partner grumbled, but tied it on. While they waited for Palmer, the three agents spread plastic dropcloths over the wooden floor.

"I'll start taping the windows," Tim said. "Tony, why don't you take the ceiling and Ziva, the baseboards."

Palmer walked in with the cans of paint. "The big one is for the walls, right?" he asked.

"No, Palmer, we're going to paint the walls with the little quart of cranberry you're holding," Tony said, his voice slightly muffled by the mask. "Yes, we're going with the gray on the walls to cover up this explosion of an orange grove." He pulled the paint rollers from the bag and handed them out. "Let's get the first coat of the gray on. Tim, why don't you do the green wall."

"Why is that wall green?" Ziva asked as they started painting.

"It's the only flat wall," Tim said as he rapidly covered the wall with paint. "My bookcases will go here, and the color will show through around the books. Tony said it will look good."

"It will," Tony said. "Of course, compared to this orange monstrosity..."

"That is true," Ziva said. "It is rather ... bright."

The paint rolled on quickly, but Tim could tell it was going to take a second coat to fully hide the orange. "At least the yellow should only take one coat to cover," he said.

"Guys, why are we painting most of this room gray? Why not use green all the way through, you know, an actual color?" Palmer said.

"Gray is a color," Tim said. "If there was no color, it would be black."

"No, it would be white," Ziva said. "White is no color."

"Technically, white is the presence of all colors," Tim said. "Because all the colors are present, it absorbs all the colors in the light spectrum, so our eyes see white. Black is the absence of color."

"Thanks, Mr. Wizard," Tony said. "Palmer, the gray is a compromise. It was the only one of the neutral colors McBland wanted that didn't make me want to scream."

"I think it looks quite nice," Ziva said.

"Thank you, Ziva," Tim said.

"I still think this room could use more color," Palmer said. "I see gray, and I think of the metal tables in Autopsy."

"Thanks, Palmer," Tim said. "But the only dead bodies here will be the ones Tibbs and company investigate in my books."

"You have dead bodies in here?" Palmer said.

Tim just glared at him.

"Oh. You don't mean real bodies. You mean you write about dead bodies. I knew... I should have known that." Palmer's voice stumbled to a stop

"I draw the line at dead bodies," Tony said. "I've already got McGee."

"Tony!" Ziva said. "That was quite uncalled for, and I believe this room will be quite appropriate for McGee's writing room once we are done."

"You know, Tony, it's a good thing Abby's sick," Tim said. "She'd be on our side since this gray is about as close as we can get to black without actually being black. That's three against two."

"Yes, but _I'm_ the one who has to live with it and you," Tony retorted. "She can paint her own bedroom black."

"She has," Tim said.

"You? How do you know what color her bedroom is?" Palmer asked.

"McKinky's slept in her coffin," Tony said. "Even Gibbs knows that."

Tim glared at him. "You didn't know that until I told you about it a few weeks ago."

"No, I didn't know Gibbs knew," Tony said. "I've known for years you slept with our mistress of the dark. And since she sleeps in a coffin and your bedroom is the epitome of bland, I figured you slept in the coffin."

"Nobody notices the color of the walls if they're focused on the person in the bed with them," Tim said, smirking. "Just ask Abby."

"She does seem to hold quite a high opinion of you, McGee," Ziva said.

"Wait, you two have talked about that?" Tim said.

"So, spill, probette. What does Abby think of McRomeo here in the sack?"

"Guys, do we really want to hear this?" Palmer said.

" _I_ really don't want you to hear it," Tim retorted. "Bad enough she rated my performance in front of the whole team, including Gibbs, that one time."

"And you did not get fired for breaking Rule 12?" Ziva said.

"Rule 12?" Palmer sounded confused.

"Never date a co-worker," Tony said. "We've never been able to decide if Gibbs broke his own rule with Director Shepherd back when they were in Paris or their experience in Paris is why he has Rule 12."

"Can we not talk about dating co-workers?" Palmer said.

"Sorry, Palmer," Tim said. "Didn't mean to dredge up bad memories."

"No, it's OK." he said. "So we're sticking with gray in here?"

"Yes." Tim was sick of discussing the colors.

"So, Tony," Ziva said. "What color is your bedroom going to be?"

"It's slate blue," Tony said. "Other than this room, the owners actually have decent taste. If they had bothered to paint this room before they tried to sell it, they might not have had to rent it out."

"Why don't we give them a tour while we wait for this coat to dry?" Tim said.

"Does that mean I can take this damn mask off?" Tony asked.

"You should be safe once we get out of this room," Palmer said. "The combination of the low-vapor paint and the fan in the window has reduced the level of fumes to a minimal level even in here, and the cross-ventilation from the fans should mean that most of the remaining fumes are going outside rather than into the house."

"Palmer, you're sounding like McGeek here," Tony said. "Come on, let's get out of this room." Once they were in the hallway, he untied his mask and stuffed it in the pocket of his paint-smeared jeans. "The living room in through here." He pointed to the blank wall above the fireplace. "That's where my big-screen is going."

"Did you even check and see if it will fit? Your TV is huge," Tim said. "It's bigger than Ziva."

"I measured it while you were checking to see if your McLibrary would fit in the study," Tony said. "You have more bookcases than anybody I know."

"It's not _that_ many, Tony," Tim retorted. "You just don't know that many people who read books to compare it to." He let a small smile flit across his face so Tony would know it was all in jest.

 

"And you two wonder why I expect us to be out here investigating a murder by the end of your first week?" Ziva said. "You are like two little goats."

"Kids, Ziva. Little kids. Children, not goats," Tony said. "Come on, let's move on to the one room neither of us will spend much time in, the kitchen."

They toured the rest of the lower level, then headed upstairs.

"Three bedrooms?" Ziva said.

"Well, of course, Ziva," Palmer said. "You didn't think Tony and McGee were going to share, did you? I mean, you only share a bedroom when you're a little kid, or if you're, you know, together."

"Tony is a little childish," Ziva said. "But I do not think McGee deserves that fate."

Tim tried to figure out exactly how this conversation had taken this turn and if he should say something or just let it go. He settled on, "Um, guys, we're right here."

"So you don't mind that they're calling me childish, only that they're saying it to my face?" Tony said. "Thanks, McBackstabber."

"Tony, _I've_ called you childish," Tim retorted. "Who was throwing paper balls at me yesterday in the bullpen?"

"But I always do that," Tony said, grinning.

"And that makes you childish," Ziva said.

"OK, OK, enough," Tony said. "The big one at the end is mine, this one here is McGee's and the one in the middle is going to be a guest room and Jethro's room."

"How come you get the big one?" Ziva said.

"Because McGee has the study and Jethro has his own room," Tony said. "It's all even. Now let's go "

When they walked back in the study, Tim frowned. "I think the green wall is going to need three coats."

"Why did you not pick a darker green?" Ziva said. "That might have covered better."

"What do you mean?" Tim said. "It _is_ dark green."

 

"McGee, there are many shades of green," Ziva said. "The sweater I wore yesterday was four or five shades darker than this paint."

"I'm with McGee," Palmer said. "Green is green."

"Have I taught you nothing, either of you?" Tony said.

Ziva looked at them both. "You really do not see it?"

"We really do not see it," Tim said.

"All I see is green," Palmer said.

Ziva huffed and looked around. "I know," she said. "Palmer, look at Tony and McGee."

Tim looked over at Tony and was sure the senior field agent's surprised expression mirrored his own.

"What am I looking at?" Palmer said.

"Look at their eyes," Ziva replied. "You see, Tony's are a darker green than McGee's. More like an emerald, while McGee's are like tinted glass."

Palmer looked at them, and Tim wondered if this was how it would feel to be under the microscope in Abby's lab.

"I see that," Palmer said. "But I understand the difference between dark and light. You lost me when you started talking about shades of dark green. It's all just dark green, isn't it?"

"OK, think of Abby," Ziva said.

Palmer closed his eyes and smiled.

"Palmer, you'd better not be thinking about her shoes," Tim said. "Remember, she can kill you and.."

"...leave no forensic evidence," the four of them said at once.

"No, no, of course not," Palmer said. "I wouldn't- I didn't-"

"So why are you having him think about Abby?" Tim asked Ziva.

"Abby also has light green eyes, just as you do," Ziva said. "But hers are a different shade. Yours have a bluish tint. Hers are more a yellow-green, like a cat."

"I think Abby would rather be a bat than a cat," Tim said.

"Are we sure she's not?" Tony said. "I mean, she is Abby."

"You are missing my point," Ziva said.

"No, no, I think I get it," Palmer said. "But it's kind of difficult, you know, without Abby here to compare with."

Tony waggled his eyebrows. "Ohhhh," he said, drawing it out. "Does the Autopsy Gremlin have a thing for the Dark Angel? Come on, you can admit it. You played dumb just so you have an excuse to go in Monday and look into her eyes."

"No!" Jimmy backed away, eyebrows lifted above the top of his glasses. "I mean, not that Abby isn't nice and all. She would be a great woman to date, right, McGee? Not that, you know, I have or anything. Or I want to. No. I just mean..."

Tim took pity on him. "We know what you mean, Palmer." He stepped back toward the paint tray by the green wall. "Come on, let's get back to painting."

It was dark by the time the room was done, except for a final coat of green paint that they had decided would have to wait for the next day."

After Ziva and Palmer had left, they packed up the paint cans and other gear and took it down to the cellar. The half-bath on the main floor had the only sink with soap, so they crowded in there to scrub their hands clean. While they soaped and scoured, Tim looked in the mirror to see Tony eying his reflection. They watched each other in the mirror as they cleaned.

"I see what Ziva meant," Tim said.

"About what?"

"Our eyes. She's right. Yours are darker, deeper. I feel like I could get lost in there. And when you get excited, they almost glow."

"Well, I'll have to take your word for it, since you're usually the one making me excited," Tony replied.

Tim gently elbowed him. "Not just that kind of excited. When we're working a hot case, I can see it sometimes. It shows how much you love what we do, how much you care."

Tony smiled. "And what about your own eyes?"

Tim frowned. "Like Ziva said, they're lighter. More like tinted glass."

"Appropriate," Tony said. "Because I've always thought they were windows to your true feelings. No matter how you try to hide things, I've always been able to look at your eyes and tell the truth. Even before you joined the team." He shrugged. "That's one of the reasons it's easy for me to trust you. I can read you." He let a small smile. "That first night, when you came over to fix my TV?"

Tim nodded.

"I'd been looking for some hint you might be interested. And I could never tell... until I started watching your eyes instead of your expressions. That's how I realized you might actually return my interest. So when you snapped at me for flirting with you, I knew you weren't angry. You wanted me to be flirting with you." He dried his hands on his paint-smeared sweatshirt before pulling Tim in for a kiss.

When they pulled away, Tim looked at him. "And what are my eyes saying now?"

Tony didn't answer, just grabbed Tim's hand and led him upstairs to the empty master bedroom.


	40. Chapter 39: Moving Day

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> OK, by this story's standards, this is a monster chapter — almost 5,000 words — twice as long as the average. Hope you enjoy as the guys *finally* move into their place together, aided by the entire team and the McGees. And huge thanks to everybody who's reading and reviewing.

The following Saturday, the two men woke early. They had decided it made sense to have two teams for the move. The McGees and Palmer would meet Tim at his place to pack furniture in the moving van they had rented, while Gibbs would take his pickup and meet Ziva, Ducky, Abby and Tony at the senior agent's apartment to fill it with boxes and smaller items. Once they brought the first loads to the house, they would redivide and send the moving van and a crew of heavy lifters to Tony's place, while Ducky and the others took the pickup to Tim's apartment for smaller items. And even though it made more sense to stay at their respective apartments, neither man had wanted to spend the night apart, so they had settled on an early alarm.

Tony was getting read to leave two hours before the team members were supposed to be at his house, so he would be there in case one of them showed up early.

"Look on the bright side, Tony," Tim said, as the senior agent was checking to make sure he had everything. "After today we don't have to hide that we're living together."

"I still wish we could just be open about it," Tony said. "I know why we can't, but I don't like feeling like you're part of an undercover op. I've been down that road before..."

"The difference is, I'm not an undercover op," Tim said, "and we do work with the best team at NCIS. Sooner or later somebody's going to figure it out. Probably Gibbs. And we'll cross that bridge when we come to it. At least doing it this way means Gibbs can't accuse us of bringing it into the office."

"True," Tony replied. "I'll just be glad when everything's moved in."

"I already reminded my parents and Sarah that nobody knows, and they understand. Heck, my dad serves under DADT. I didn't even have to explain it to him."

"OK," Tony said. He checked his watch. I'd better get going, or somebody's going to decide to come by early."

Once he left, Tim stripped the bed and dumped the sheets in a laundry bag, balling them up so nobody would be able to tell he'd had company the night before. Then he started packing up the last few odds and ends. He had just finished when he heard the knock.

"Hey, Palmer," Tim said as he opened the door. "Thanks for coming to help out today. I really appreciate it."

"Of course," Palmer said. "You need the help. I mean... Dr. Mallard shouldn't be lugging furniture around, and Tony with his lungs, and..."

Tim cut him off. "I know, Palmer. Just do us all a favor and don't say anything to Tony about his lungs. Hopefully it won't be an issue today. And even though Brad took him off the medication that made him channel Gibbs' second B, he still hates being reminded that he's not 100 percent."

"Oh, no, I would never do that," Palmer said. "I-"

Whatever else he was going to say got cut off as Tim's family knocked on the apartment door.

"Where's Jethro?" Tim asked as his mother hugged him.

"In the car," Sarah said. "It's cold enough that it's safe to leave him there with a window cracked."

"Probably a good idea," Tim said. "Palmer, have you met my family?" When the ME's assistant shook his head, Tim performed introductions.

"So where do we start?" Tim's dad asked.

Tim looked around the apartment. "Well, we probably should put in the mattress and box spring first since they're the biggest. Then the workbench, then the other stuff."

Working together, they got the truck packed up fairly quickly. With no couch, the mattress and box spring were the only big pieces of furniture.

Sean put down the desk chair he had been carrying, only to bend over double from the coughing fit that overtook him.

"Dad?" Tim said, putting down his end of the desk he and Palmer were carrying down the hall. His father definitely sounded worse than he had a couple of weeks ago. Not as bad as Tony's worst coughing fits, but still bad.

"I'm fine, Tim," he said. "It's just a cold."

He picked the chair up and was down the hall before Tim could say anything else.

Tim cursed softly.

"McGee?" Palmer's voice was hesitant in a way he normally only got around Gibbs.

"Yeah?"

"Your dad, he didn't sound good."

Tim shook his head. "He's had that cold since September, and it's been getting worse."

"Should he even be around Tony?"

Tim sighed. "No, probably not. I need to tell him he has to wear a mask before he leaves here."

"Does he know? I mean, about Tony?"

Tim thought carefully before speaking. "He knows about Tony's lungs and how that's part of the reason why we're getting a place together. He just doesn't know about Brad's latest mask edict."

"Do you want me to tell him?" Palmer said. "I mean, I am almost a doctor. I've got some masks in my car."

Tim clapped Jimmy on the shoulder. "Thanks, Jimmy. I appreciate it. But he wouldn't do anything to hurt Tony. I just need to tell him, and probably keep them on separate moving crews. And I have a stack of masks. Ducky left them on my desk last week." He thought for a second. "Could you pull Ducky aside, though, and ask him to talk to my dad? I really think he should get it checked out, maybe even talk to Brad, but he's being stubborn."

Palmer nodded. "Of course. But knowing Dr. Mallard, I won't even need to ask. As soon as he sees Mr. McGee with the mask on, he's going to try and examine him to make sure Tony's not in any danger. And if he doesn't, I'm sure Agent Gibbs will tell him to."

"They're both very protective of Tony," Tim said. "Come on, let's get this out to the truck." They picked up the desk again and started carting it down the hall.

His dad was just about to walk back into the building when they came out. He held the door open as they maneuvered the desk out.

"Hey, Dad?"

"Yes, Tim?" His dad stood in the doorway, looking back at him.

"When you get upstairs, on the kitchen counter is a big plastic box with some surgical masks. Brad told Tony last week that he has to stay away from people who have a cold, and if he can't, he needs to wear a mask. He's going to have one on today anyway because Abby just got over a cold, but you need to put one on as well."

His dad nodded. He started to ask a question, but Tim shot him a look and tipped his head imperceptibly toward Palmer.

"Is he-" His dad started over. "Where did you get a supply of surgical masks?"

"Oh, Dr. Mallard ordered extra when we found out," Palmer said. "I think everybody on the team got a box, although McGee and Tony obviously got more than anybody else. Well, and Abby because she was sick. But since Tony can't go into the lab anyway..."

"He can't go into the lab?" Tim's dad interrupted. "Tim, this sounds more serious than you mentioned before."

Tim sighed. "To use Tony's words, Brad's just being a mother hen. I think he's just being particularly cautious since it's cold and flu season, but Abby does get some pretty bad stuff coming through her lab — mold and other things like that." He shrugged. "It's not like Tony spends half his time in the lab, like I do. Tony only goes down there to get results from Abby or to hang out if we've hit a lull." He picked up his end of the desk again. "Come on, let's get this stuff loaded, or Tony and the rest of them are going to wonder what's keeping us."

It was after 1100 when they got the van over to the new house. Gibbs had parked by the curb to leave the driveway free for the van, and his pickup bed was almost empty. Ziva and Ducky were just coming out of the house when they shifted the van into park. Tim quickly introduced everybody, then they split up between the trucks to finish unloading them.

Abby and Tony walked out of the house, passing Tim and Palmer carrying the desk in, while Ziva followed with several of the drawers stacked in her arms.

"Hi, Eileen," Tony said, hugging her when he reached the van.

"Hi, Tony, Abby," she said, releasing Tony and hugging Abby. "Abby, are you feeling better?" she asked when she saw that both of the young people were wearing masks.

The scientist nodded. "Just making sure no germs escape and attack Tony."

"For which I am grateful, or Brad would kick my ass," Tony said. He looked over at the pickup. "Is Sean still sick?" he asked quietly.

Eileen nodded. "Tim made him put a mask on." She frowned. "Not only is he not getting better, that cough is getting worse. But he refuses to see anybody about it."

Tony rolled his eyes. "Of course he won't. I'll give you Brad's number before you go today. See if you can get Sean to make an appointment with him."

"Thanks, Tony," she said. "I'm hoping that having to wear a mask around you makes him reconsider the idea."

Tony nodded and, as Gibbs approached, raised his voice back to normal conversational level. "Eileen, have you met Gibbs before?"

She shook her head and extended a hand. "I've heard many stories, but we haven't met."

"Nice to meet you," he said. "McGee's a good man. I'm glad to have him on the team. So, what should we bring in next?"

Eileen climbed up in the van and looked at the furniture. "Why don't you and Tony take Tim's dresser, and Abby and I can take his workbench."

Tony joined her in the van to carry the dresser to the edge, where Gibbs took one end of it. As Eileen held the other end, Tony hopped down and took the weight of Eileen's end as she lowered it to the ground. The two men carried it into the house and maneuvered it up the stairs.

"Down there?" Gibbs asked, tipping his head down the hall to the master bedroom.

Tony shook his head, picking his words. He didn't want to actually lie to Gibbs, but he couldn't tell him the dresser was getting moved into their room once everybody had left either. "No, in here. The middle room is a guest room, and my stuff is going in the room at the end of the hall."

Gibbs raised one eyebrow at him, then nodded and started moving the dresser into the room Tony had indicated.

 

****

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"Good morning, my dear," Ducky greeted, as McGee's sister and an older man approached the pickup where he was standing.

"Hi, Ducky," Sarah replied. "Dad, this is Ducky, the medical examiner at NCIS. Ducky, my dad."

"It's a great pleasure to meet you," Ducky said.

"Likewise," he replied. "Sean McGee. It's nice to meet you after hearing Tim's stories. And very nice of all of you to help the boys out today."

"Oh, not at all," Ducky said, lifting a box from the pickup bed. "As I'm sure Timothy has told you, we are as much family as team. I find myself with all the wonderful benefits of grandchildren despite never being fortunate enough to have children. It is a situation I quite enjoy."

Sean smiled. "You seem fortunate, indeed. Eileen and I haven't met all the team members yet, but we've enjoyed getting to know Abby and Tony." He lifted a box from the truck, then motioned for Sarah to stack another one on top of it. "Although if all the stories we've heard are true, we'd better start carrying these in the house or Agent Gibbs will be after us."

Ducky nodded and laughed. "Quite right," he said. "Let us bring the rest of Anthony's film collection inside."

They said little else as they finished emptying the pickup. Ducky frowned as he listened to Sean's few coughing fits, but opted to wait until the job was done to inquire. He was certain if it was anything serious, Timothy would not have let his father help today. Once they were done, Ducky steered them to the kitchen, where Anthony and Timothy had placed a case of water in the refrigerator. "Drink up," he said. "It will do no good to get dehydrated, and in this cold weather, we tend not to notice thirst as quickly. Why I remember this one time, back in Edinburgh..." Before he could say anything more, Abby walked in, the blue surgical mask clashing with her black and red striped sweatshirt.

"Sarah, can you pass me a couple for Ziva and your mom?"

Ducky smiled as Sarah tossed three bottles of water at Abby, who caught them and stuffed them in the pockets of her black overalls.

"How are you feeling today, Abigail?"

"I'm fine, Duckman, just like I told you this morning. I wouldn't have come otherwise. The mask is just to be extra-super-safe." She turned to Sean. "How about you, Mr. McGee? How'd you get to join our masked brigade?"

Ducky looked at Sean's face, more interested in his expressions than his words.

"Just a cold, Abby," he said. "If I had known Tony and I would have to wear masks, I would have stayed home."

"Dad, you've had this cold since the guys got back from Somalia. That's not just a cold." Sarah's words caused a reaction in Sean. His expressions were different, but Ducky would categorize it the same way young Anthony got when Gibbs was ordering him to Autopsy for a checkup. He decided to step in.

"Sean, once we deliver these boxes, would you mind terribly if I pulled out my medical bag and examined you? I assure you, with Jethro and his team using me as their personal physician, I get a great deal of practice on the living."

"I guess," Sean said. "It hasn't seemed like a big deal, just some annoying coughing, but I suppose now that coming to see Tim means Tony will be around as well means I need to get it looked at."

"That's a very sensible way to look at it," Ducky said.

Within 10 minutes, he had his bag out and Sean in the laundry room with his shirt off. As Ducky used the stethoscope to listen to other man breathe, he frowned.

"Sean, I believe you might have a touch of bronchitis," he said. "Sarah mentioned this has been going on since early September?"

He nodded, pulling his T-shirt over his head.

"That sounds like chronic bronchitis. The good news is that it likely is not contagious, though as Anthony's physician, I ask that your wear a mask around him until you get a formal diagnosis."

"So what's the bad news?" Sean slipped into his MIT sweatshirt.

"Chronic bronchitis can often lead to more serious issues with the lungs, much as Anthony is now experiencing. It is unfortunately rather common among sailors of your generation because of asbestos on ships. I would suggest you make an appointment with Dr. Pitt at Bethesda. He has a great deal of expertise in these matters." Ducky rifled through his bag until he found one of the young doctor's cards. "As Anthony's doctor, he also will be best able to determine which precautions you should practice around each other and young Timothy should practice around both of you."

Sean nodded and put the card in the pocket of his jeans. "Thank you, Dr. Mallard. I'll call him Monday. Until then, would you mind not mentioning anything to Tim or the others? I'd like to find out what's going on first."

"Certainly, lad." Ducky packed the last of his equipment back in the medical bag. "Now, let us rejoin the others."

 

****

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

About 1300, everybody gathered in the kitchen to eat the pizza Tony had ordered shortly after the last truckloads came back from the two apartments.

Ducky, Gibbs and the McGees snagged the chairs around the kitchen table, while Abby, Ziva and Sarah sat cross-legged on the floor. Meanwhile the three men used boxes of books as makeshift stools on the other side of the room where Tony could eat without without having to try to eat pizza around his mask.

For the first few minutes, nobody said anything as they dug into the steaming hot pizza. Gibbs took the opportunity to observe everybody. He wondered if the McGees knew the extent of the relationship between the two agents. For that matter, he wasn't completely sure what their relationship was. They were breaking Rule 12. Lots of ways to break that rule, though. Never had figured out how McGee and Abby broke it. Serious, casual, friends having sex. Could have been any of them. His eyes narrowed as he looked over at the girls sitting by the back door. He really needed to make sure that situation didn't escalate. There hadn't been any scuttlebutt about Abby's interest in McGee yet, but he had seen enough in the past few weeks to be sure his impression that she wanted to break Rule 12 with McGee again was accurate.

His thoughts were interrupted when Mrs. McGee addressed him. "Agent Gibbs, Sean and I never told you how much we appreciated your help — the help of your entire team — when Sarah was having difficulties a few years ago."

He nodded. "We take care of our people," he said.

"Semper Fi," Sean said, smiling. "I've heard a lot about you, Gunny, from some of the Marines you served with in Kuwait. A few of them are at the Academy with me."

Gibbs nodded. He never knew what to say to compliments. "Served with some good men over there. Serve with some good people here, too. Best team I've ever had."

Ducky nodded. "This is quite an extraordinary assembly of talent, augmented by, dare I say, a heaping helping of humanity."

"Good description, Duck," Gibbs replied. "Expect to see the next director from this crew."

"NCIS director?" Eileen said.

Gibbs nodded. "Next director, next MCRT leader, next medical examiner. Already have the top forensic scientist in the country running the lab."

Ducky chuckled. "As you can see, Eileen, in our little NCIS family, Jethro is the proud father. As well he should be."

"I can tell," she replied. "It's nice to get to know the rest of the team. We've heard so many stories from Tim over the years, it's nice to put names to faces."

Gibbs couldn't resist a smirk. "Just as long as they're the stories you hear, not the ones you read," he said.

Sean started laughing. "Yes, Sarah told us you all were a bit surprised when she mentioned _Deep Six._ We never realized Tim was so good at keeping secrets."

"One word for it," Gibbs said.

"Ah, yes," Ducky said. "I must say, we were a little taken aback at Timothy's skill in that arena. I understand only Anthony and Caitlin were aware he liked to write." He sighed. "And of course, poor Caitlin was no longer with us by then."

Gibbs frowned. Not at Kate's memory, but at how close McGee and Tony had been to dying that time — especially McGee. He hoped Tim hadn't told his parents Ari had shot at him first. They didn't need to know that.

Sean put a hand on the medical examiner's shoulder. "We remember. That was right after Tony got the plague, right?"

"Yes. Anthony had only been back at work two days," Ducky said. "It was... a difficult month." He sighed. "But this is not the time to dwell on past challenges."

Gibbs nodded. "Enough now." He smirked and raised his voice. "Hey, DiNozzo!"

"Yes, Boss?" Tony sat up straight.

"How many pizzas you three demolish over there?"

Tony looked at the boxes piled on the floor. "Three."

Palmer lifted a fourth box from the floor behind them. "And a half."

Sean started laughing. "Four pizzas for them, not even two for us."

"We'll take the extra," Sarah said. "We finished our two already."

"Oh, to be young again," Sean said, handing over the rest of the box.

"You can't have our extra," Tony said. "We're not done."

Gibbs looked at his watch. "East fast, DiNozzo. If you want to get all this stuff unpacked before dark, we need to get moving."

 

****

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Once everything was unloaded, the team scattered through the house to start unpacking. McGee and his dad were working on the study, while Gibbs, Tony and Palmer tackled the living room. Ziva looked in the kitchen, but saw Mrs. McGee and Ducky there. Upstairs, Sarah and Abby were working on McGee's bedroom and the guest room, so she walked into Tony's bedroom.

The slate blue walls were soothing; his king-sized bed big against the wall. She started with the box labeled "Sheets and Towels," placing the towels in the bathroom. Then Ziva made the bed, enjoying the feel of the luxury cotton sheets and down comforter.

Moving onto his clothing, she made quick work of the suits, hanging them in the closet in the order they came out of the wardrobe boxes. She skipped the boxes labeled "Underwear." Just because she had seen some of Tony's underwear in the file cabinet at work did not mean she felt comfortable unpacking it in his home. She decided the T-shirt box was a safer bet.

There were several red and gray shirts in the first pile, many with Ohio State University logos. She placed them in one drawer of the dresser, then went to pick up another section of the stack. There was more variety here: greens, blacks, and other darker colors that Tony often wore. Like her, his complexion looked best against those colors. When she reached back into the box, she frowned at the light blue shirt on top of the pile. That was definitely not a Tony color. She certainly had never seen him wear it. And yet it looked familiar. She puzzled over it for a second before continuing to unpack. As she stacked folded T-shirts in the dresser drawer, she tried to remember where she had seen the shirt. She closed her eyes and tried to picture it. The abstract design on the chest was partially covered in her memory. As she focused, she pictured a blazer covering it. More of the picture developed.

Ziva dropped the shirts in her hand on the floor. She dug through the ones already put away until she found the blue one. Unfolding it, she held it up. As she closed her eyes again, she pictured the last time she had seen it — on McGee.

Now what was one of McGee's shirts doing in Tony's boxes of clothes? One of Tony's in with McGee's clothes; that would make sense. Tony had been spending quite a bit of time at McGee's these past few weeks because of his lungs. Ziva frowned. Perhaps she was slipping as an investigator. There was something here she did not understand. Looking around, she realized she had strewn clothes all over the floor. She started to pick them up before Abby or Sarah came in to see if she needed help.

If there was something going on, something... What was Abby's word? Hinky? Yes, hinky. If there was something hinky, they most likely knew. And if they knew and were not telling her, there most likely was a reason. If they did not know, Ziva did not know what she would say to them. As she replaced the last shirt in the drawer, she decided to keep her eyes open and observe.

 

****

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Later that evening after everyone else had left and Tim had moved his hanging clothes from the bedroom in which Sarah had unpacked them into the master bedroom's closet alongside Tony's things, Tim wandered downstairs. They still needed to move his dresser into their room, but that could wait. As he walked down the stairs, he heard music coming from the living room. He stood in the doorway and watched Tony, as he played the keyboard unaware of his audience. Tim leaned against the doorway and enjoyed the strains of smooth, upbeat jazz. He'd heard Tony play a few times since Gibbs had suggested the senior agent resume playing every night, and he was starting to be able to tell Tony's mood from the music. Tim didn't know how Tony felt when he started playing this evening, but he was in a relaxed mood now. Sometimes Tim envied how Tony could sit down at the keyboard and just start pressing keys, envied the skill that allowed him to make music from his heart. And then Tim realized it was a lot like his freewriting. The keys were different, but the intent was the same — to let the emotions flow out through his fingers. He smiled. He'd have to save that comparison for the next time Tony kidded him about his writing. Tim let the music wrap around him, closing his eyes and just enjoying.

When Jethro ran down the stairs, barking, and lifted his paws to the living room windowsill, it broke the mood. Tim straightened up, and Tony turned to face him.

"Jethro," Tim scolded, "it's just a car. If you bark every time one drives by, you're going to drive us both crazy."

Tony smiled. "Come on, McMutt. Let's go up to bed. Your dad and I have had a long day."

Tim nodded. "Do you want to move my dresser into our room now or wait until tomorrow?"

"Is that the last piece of furniture?"

"Last one. That was the only one we had to put in a different room. And most of the boxes are unpacked."

Tony rolled his head in a circle. "Let's just get it over with. Then we don't have to move anything big tomorrow."

"Sounds like a plan," Tim said. "After that, how about we try out the new shower before breaking out some of that massage oil you have?"

"I like the way you think," Tony said. "One dresser, one shower, two massages coming up."


	41. Chapter 40

The next afternoon, Tim and Tony were dozing on the couch. Tim snuggled back against Tony, who was running his hand along Tim's arm and back in long, soothing strokes. They were warm under the fleece throw, and Tim was having a tough time keeping his eyes open. He'd seen Luke Skywalker and Han Solo in action so many times, he could tell what was going on just by listening to the movie playing on the TV. Cold weather outside and a long, strenuous day yesterday left the couple ready to do absolutely nothing except enjoy a few hours together. Jethro sprawled on the floor nearby, no more awake than the men. Tim smiled lazily at the thought of spending weekends like this whenever they wanted, or at least whenever they weren't on duty. Sure, they could have done this before, as long as they were at Tony's place. But somehow, it was different. This was their place, a sign of their life together. He let out a happy sigh and tugged Tony's top arm down to hold him close, wrapping his own arms over Tony's. He was just drifting into that space between awake and asleep when the doorbell rang.

"Wonder who that is?" Tony asked, voice slow and heavy with sleep.

Tim moved his partner's arm out of the way. "I'll go find out. Maybe one of the neighbors saw us moving in and brought us cookies. That's what my mom always did when new neighbors moved in." He untangled himself from Tony and the fleece blanket, shaking his head as Tony buried back under the blanket in favor of letting him handle the visitor at the door.

But instead of a finding a neighbor at their doorstep, Tim found Gibbs standing there.

"Thought you boys could use some lunch," he said, raising the white plastic bag in his hand. "Didn't figure you'd have the kitchen unpacked yet."

"Thanks, Boss." Tim said, loud enough for Tony to hear. The sight of their boss had erased any sleepiness from his mind. He felt the adrenaline rush they got when heading out to a case, but he was pretty sure that wasn't a good thing. He forced himself to keep his voice steady. "Come on in. We were just watching a movie and chilling out."

Thankfully Tony had heard, because he was sitting up and the TV was off when they walked into the living room. "Thanks, Boss!"

Gibbs didn't say anything, just handed out cartons before lowering himself into the easy chair. Tim opened his to find his usual beef and broccoli. He knew Tony would have General Tso's, and Gibbs would have shrimp lo mein. He caught the chopsticks Gibbs tossed at him before the team leader passed a fork to Tony. Tim made sure to sit several inches from Tony, knowing anything closer would be out of place for two co-workers who happened to be roommates.

Tim had just swallowed the first bite when Gibbs spoke.

"I didn't just stop by with lunch," he said. "Wanted to see if you two needed help moving any of McGee's furniture into your room. Or did you do that last night?"

Tim stabbed the chopsticks into his beef and broccoli. "Boss?" He looked over at Tony to see his own shock mirrored in the expression on his partner's face.

"You two are good, but it takes a lot to fool me." Gibbs smiled, a real smile. "You didn't spend a single night in that sleeping bag, did ya McGee?"

Tim opened his mouth, then closed it again. How was he supposed to answer that? He looked from Gibbs back to Tony.

"You know?" Tony said. Turning to Tim, he said, "He knows."

"I know."

"That's why..." Tony paused to regroup. "You were going to help me move Tim's dresser into our room yesterday."

Gibbs nodded. "Testing you, too. Didn't know if you knew I knew."

Tim flopped back against the couch and stared at the ceiling. "This is starting to sound like our conversation a couple weeks ago. Boss, we spent 15 minutes going around in circles trying to figure out if you knew." He sat back up. "When did you know?"

"I've suspected since the day Brad came to tell us about Tony," Gibbs said. "Didn't realize that's what it was at first. The running together made sense. But when you mentioned his nightmares, something on your face seemed off. Pieces started clicking into place. Started thinking. Started wondering."

"That long?" Tony said.

Gibbs nodded. "Took me a few weeks to be sure."

"You don't..." Tim tried to figure out how to phrase his question without insulting Gibbs. "This doesn't bother you?"

"Pacci was one of my best friends at the agency," Gibbs said. "Didn't matter to me who he dated. Second B is for bastard, not bigot."

"Pacci?" Tony said. "I didn't realize..." His voice trailed off. "I guess that explains why I never saw him out with a woman at the office Christmas parties." He paused, and Tim wished, not for the first time, that he had met Pacci in person instead of on Ducky's autopsy table so he could have gotten to know the agent.

"But he didn't date anybody in the agency," Tony continued. "Or if he did, he kept it quiet. We're breaking Rule 12. Did you come by to tell one of us he's being transferred?"

At the stunned look on Gibbs' face, Tim felt tension he hadn't known was there melt out of his shoulders.

"No. Rule 12 is why I didn't say anything when I suspected."

Tim thought for a second Gibbs had been spending too much time around Abby. "You lost, me, Boss," he said.

"Me too," Tony added.

Gibbs looked at them for a second, and Tim braced for a head slap. When Gibbs started laughing, he felt his jaw drop. Gibbs? Laughing?

"Boss?" Tony asked.

They had to wait for Gibbs to stop laughing. "The whole reason for Rule 12 is so the relationship doesn't affect the team," he said. "That's why I watched. You two have been good about that. If I wasn't watching, I wouldn't have known."

"We wanted to keep it quiet," Tony said. "McSpock here had it all figured out logically before we even started seeing each other that you wouldn't make one of us leave the team, but we really didn't want to test his theory if we didn't have to."

Gibbs' lips quirked up on one side. "Don't want to move you. Didn't say anything because you kept it out of the office. Keep it out of the office, and I don't mind. Let it get in the way, and Tim'll be headed back to CyberCrimes since that's the only way I can keep you both here if you can't be on a team together."

"Yes, boss." McGee wasn't even bothered by the threat of being sent to the sub-basement. He'd rather be there and come home to Tony than work with him and have to settle for being friends. "We won't. It's been six months, and we haven't let it affect us — even in Somalia. That's not going to change."

Gibbs raised one eyebrow. "Six months?"

Tony nodded. "Since June," he said. "Right about the time we started interviewing replacements for Ziva."

As Gibbs fixed his gaze on them, Tim felt his shoulders start to tense. "Boss?"

"Didn't realize it had been that long," he said. "Thought it was after we brought Ziva home. More discreet than I gave you credit for."

Tim wasn't sure what to say to that, and from the silence, he was sure Tony didn't know either.

"You two serious?" Gibbs said.

"You think we'd break Rule 12 if we weren't?" Tony said. "We're about as serious as it gets." He turned to look at the man sitting next to him, the soft smile he reserved for Tim alone on his face. Tim returned his smile and scooted closer.

"He's right," Tim said.

"Your family know?"

"Sarah was the first person who found out," he replied.

Tony laughed. "She was at Tim's watching Jethro when we got back from Somalia. We played it off like we were just friends and co-workers, but as she left she told me she was glad Agent Tommy had picked McGregor over Lisa."

Gibbs snorted. "Gotta keep on your toes with her around."

Tim rolled his eyes. "Tell me about it. I told my parents a few weeks later, and Tony met them not long after he had the first attack. Beat my mom at basketball — first time anybody's done that — and that pretty much settled things as far as they were concerned."

Gibbs nodded. "Good. Hoped they'd accept it. Not all parents do."

"Yeah, we're not going to be telling my family," Tony said. Tim felt his hands tighten into fists, his usual reaction when he thought of Tony's sorry excuse for a family. "Of course, I'd have to talk to them for that to happen."

"You told me," Gibbs said.

"Not denying doesn't exactly count as telling." He rolled his shoulders and looked down at the floor, then up at Gibbs. "I didn't mean... I should have said something. I should have trusted you," Tony said. "But thanks." He put his arm around Tim. "That's good... I'm... Thank you for being OK with it."

A slow smile spread across Gibbs' face. "Ducky told the McGees at lunch yesterday that in our NCIS family, I was the proud father. He's right. Not going to be any less proud of you. More actually. Glad to see you're settling down, not settling."

Tim looked over to see Tony just looking at Gibbs. "We're not settling," Tim said. "We just got lucky enough to find the right person at the right time."

Tony dropped a kiss on his temple. "He's right," Tony said. "Leaving NCIS for Jeanne? That would have been settling. This is right."

Gibbs nodded. "Good. Got that lucky once. Hoped my little girl would find the same thing when she was old enough." He paused and squeezed his eyes shut, swallowed. "She never got the chance. You did. I..." He paused and looked away. Tony shifted off the couch and walked over, crouching down in front of the former Marine. Tim just watched as Tony put a hand on Gibbs' shoulder.

"I know, Boss," Tony said quietly. "I know. You know we'd give anything for you to have that chance, to be having this conversation with her and her fiance."

Tim felt his eyes fill and blinked them clear. He wanted to do something, but he knew this was between Tony and Gibbs. This wasn't boss to team, or even Gibbs to Gibblets. This was Gibbs and Tony, as close to family as they could be. Only Ziva came as close to needing Gibbs to be her father the way Tony did. Only Abby came as close to being the child Gibbs never saw grow up. Tim was a Gibblet, but this was different. He suddenly realized just what it would have meant if Gibbs didn't approve and felt a wave of relief wash over him as Gibbs pulled Tony into a hug. Everything was going to be OK. He got up and walked into the kitchen to give the two men a minute.

When he returned, Tony was back on the couch, and Gibbs had his usual poker face on.

"Hey, Boss?" Tim asked.

"Yeah, Tim?"

"You said you figured it out, but I thought we did a good job of keeping it out of work. Where did we screw up?"

Gibbs smiled. "You didn't. Been doing this a long time, Tim. Takes a lot to fool me."

"So nobody else knows?" Tony asked. "Because we'd still like to keep it quiet. I'm not exactly Vance's favorite person, and I don't want to go Agent Afloat-ing again."

"Not happening," Gibbs said. "Won't tell anybody. Not their business. Won't let anybody ship you out. Not Vance. Not SecNav. Tim, the only way I'm letting you go off to CyberCrime is if I send you. You keep your relationship out of the office; I'll keep the brass out of your personal life."

Tim realized Gibbs hadn't answered one question. "Does anybody else know?"

Gibbs shrugged. "Ducky might suspect. Hasn't said anything, but he sees a lot. Doesn't tell what he sees unless he thinks he has to, though."

"Nobody else?" Tim pressed him.

Gibbs thought for a second. "Can't see Palmer figuring it out. Doesn't spend enough time with you. Abbs doesn't know. Don't think Ziva knows."

"You're sure Abby doesn't know?" Tony said.

"I'm sure."

"She's the one we worried about," Tim said. "I love Abby; she's my best friend. But she gets so excited, she'd let something slip."

"She doesn't know." Gibbs stood up. "So can I get the grand tour now that all the boxes are unpacked?"

"They're not all unpacked," Tony said. "I'll be happy if we get it all finished by Thanksgiving."

"Just a couple weeks away, Tony," Gibbs said. "Be good work to get everything unpacked by then as much stuff as we hauled in here yesterday." Tim stood and led the way into his study.

"We did manage to get all the books unpacked," he said. "This room, the living room, and our bedroom are the only ones really finished." He felt the tips of his ears heat a bit as he mentioned their bedroom.

Gibbs walked in and looked at the wall of bookshelves. "Looks good," he said. He stepped closer to the center bookcase that held Tim's collection of family photos. "This new?" He pointed to a frame on the center shelf, which Tim had carefully placed so he could see it while sitting at his desk.

Tim nodded. "Mom snuck it in here yesterday somehow. We found it wrapped on my desk after they left."

The pewter collage frame had "Family" engraved in the center. Tim was in all the photos — with Sarah, with his parents, with all three of them, with the team. Tim still hadn't figure out how his mom got that one. The focal point of the frame though was a photo taken a few weeks earlier when he and Tony had taken Jethro over to his parents' home one Sunday. The weather had been nice then, and several of the trees still had their colorful leaves. Tim and Tony had gone out to rake the yard, and Sarah had ambushed them — throwing an armful of the just-raked leaves at them. Tony had tried to retaliate, but he'd missed and gotten Tim instead. Jethro had thought it was a game and had knocked Tim over. He'd reached over and grabbed Tony's leg to pull him down into the pile. And by the time the leaf fight ended, the pile they had just raked was scattered. Tony had pulled him in for a kiss, only to have Jethro try and stick his nose between them to lick the faces of his two favorite humans. Only later had they found out Tim's parents had been taking photos from the porch the entire time.

As Tony finished telling the story, Gibbs chuckled. "And I'll bet they made you rake all the leaves back up," he said.

"Not all of them," Tim replied. "They made Sarah help." He smirked.

"You know, I'll bet she's the one who got the team photo," Tony said. "She probably asked Abby for it."

"Didn't tell Abby," Gibbs said.

"No, she wouldn't," Tim said. "She promised that the day she told us she knew." He frowned. "But how did you know?"

"You're not the only ones I've been watching," Gibbs said. "Abby's beginning to realize she shouldn't have given up her geek." He paused, looked Tim in the eye. "This turns into a soap opera, you're going to the sub-basement."


	42. Chapter 41

On the way to the Navy Yard the next morning, Tim sat back while Tony negotiated the usual morning traffic.

"You're driving tomorrow," Tony said.

"If we get stuck here late on a hot case, I'll even drive home tonight," Tim said. "It's nice to be able to take the same car without needing an explanation."

"Not like we need to hide anything from Gibbs any more," Tony replied. "And Ziva will accept it as practical to take a single car. She's not going to question it."

"Do you think she knows?" Tim said. "She would have said something."

"And what about-" Tony stopped. "You know what? I'm not going to go there. Gibbs knows. He's OK with it. I refuse to make myself crazy trying to decide who's going to figure us out next, if anybody."

"Somebody will," Tim said. "Gibbs has trained us too well. Everybody except Palmer, that is. Besides, they'll all be fine if they figure it out."

"Not all," Tony said. "Don't forget, Gibbs said Abby's looking to get back with you."

Tim rolled his eyes. "So I tell her no. She's the most open-minded person I know. She's not going to have a problem with us."

"That's not what I'm worried about, McClueless," Tony said. "Abby has this little part of her brain that thinks of you as her Timmy. She figures when she's finally ready to settle down, you'll be there for her."

"So?" Tim said. "I've dated other people since we broke up. She has too."

"And none of them knew you two spend hours working together."

Tim turned to look at Tony. "Are you jealous?"

"No!" Tony reached over and head-slapped Tim. "I trust you. But you know Abby. She's hands-on and flirty with all of us. And if she's got a thing for you, she's going to be even more so with you."

"You know I'm not going to flirt back," Tim said. "I don't even do that with you, and not just because I don't want to out us to the entire agency."

"I know," Tony said. "I just..."

Tim raised one eyebrow and waited.

"If she's already thinking about asking you back, spending time with her is not going to help things."

"What do you want me to do?" Tim sighed. "Look, working in the lab with Abby has always been a big part of my job. I can't tell Gibbs not to send me down there, or it becomes a situation where our life together is affecting our jobs and I'll end up in CyberCrimes."

"True," Tony said. "And I can't spend more time in the lab for the same reason."

"Gibbs knows about us. He knows Abby has a thing for me. He's not going to send me down there if he doesn't have to, because he doesn't want to ship me off to CyberCrimes any more than I want to go." Tim pinched the bridge of his nose. "We just do what we've been doing. If we do, Abby's not going to suspect. If she did, she wouldn't be looking to get me back."

"True," Tony said. "OK. Let's just get coffee, get our asses in there before Gibbs thinks we're late for a much more fun reason than trying to decipher the maze that is Abby's brain, and hope we catch a case today so it's not an issue."

Ziva was already at her desk when they walked in. Tim handed her a cup of tea from the tray he carried, then placed coffee on Gibbs' desk.

"You are all moved in, yes?" she asked.

"Yes," Tony said. "Even McSlaveDriver was satisfied."

"Just because I had you put away the kitchen stuff since you cook more than I do..." Tim tried not to smile, but couldn't keep his lips from twitching.

"Just don't complain when you can't find a glass," Tony said.

As the three agents settled into the usual morning banter, Tim relaxed. It was easier to be normal here in the bullpen. Just the regular back-and-forth that was almost invariably interrupted by-

"Gear up." Gibbs walked to his desk. "Dead midshipman in Annapolis."

The junior agent grinned as they headed out. Home might be different, but work was just the same.

The body wasn't on Academy grounds, butin a vacant lot not far from a couple of clubs.

While Tony started sketching and shooting and Ziva bagged and tagged, Gibbs interviewed the dog walker who had found the young woman. Tim examined the body and ran her prints on the portable scanner. She was dressed in a long-sleeved, low-cut, body-hugging shirt and short skirt. One high-heeled shoe was on the ground a few feet away. He didn't see the other one.

"What do we have here, Timothy?" Ducky asked.

"Midshipman Amanda Murchinson. Third-year at the Academy. Reported UA this morning. Her prints match the ID found on the body." He looked over at the medical examiner. "Looks like she got beaten pretty badly." Tim moved aside so Ducky could examine the body.

"Yes, indeed," Ducky said. "Somebody was not gentle with you, my dear." He inserted the liver probe and started examining the body. "Time of death is approximately 36 hours ago. I believe the cause will turn out to be blunt force trauma, but I will know more once I get her back to the lab." He turned and looked back toward the truck. "The gurney please, Mr. Palmer."

Tim rejoined the others and filled them in.

"So she was killed Saturday night," Tony said. "Out on the town?"

Tim nodded. "Sure looked like it from what she was wearing. Dressed up, heels. She wasn't hanging around the dorm, that's for sure."

"Academy," Gibbs said. "Find her friends, classmates. See if they know where she was going."

When they got to the Academy, Tim looked for his dad's car in the lot near his office, but didn't see it. He frowned, then remembered his dad had said he was going to make an appointment with Brad on Ducky's advice. Hopefully that's where his dad was.

Gibbs led them to the Commandant's office, where they only had to wait a minute before they were ushered in. The naval officer stood and introduced himself.

"Special Agent Gibbs. Thank you for taking the time to see us, sir," Gibbs said. "Agents DiNozzo, McGee and David."

Tim smiled at Capt. Webber. He had been at the Academy for several years, and Tim had known him since high school.

"Agents DiNozzo, David, nice to meet you," Webber said. "Tim, good to see you again."

"You two know each other?" Ziva said.

"My dad teaches in the leadership program here at the Academy," Tim said. "I've known Capt. Webber since I was a teenager."

"Yes," Webber said. "In fact, Midshipman Murchinson was in your dad's second-classmen leadership seminar." He pulled a stack of papers from the pile on his desk. "Here is the rest of her class schedule, as well as her roommates' names and the names of the rest of her company. Commander McGee is at Bethesda until late afternoon, but you should be able to find everybody else." Tim nodded slightly at having his hunch confirmed.

"Thank you, Captain," Gibbs said. "Did you know Murchinson well?"

The naval officer shook his head. "I knew who she was, but that's about it. As commandant, I generally know the extremes of the midshipmen. She was never before me on disciplinary charges, nor was she one of the stars of her class. She was just middle of the road." He frowned. "It sounds horrible when I put it that way, but unfortunately it's the truth. Now, let me show you to one of our conference rooms. You can use that for a base of operations. I'll let Commander McGee know to contact you when he returns."

Gibbs nodded. "Have him call McGee's cell phone," he said. "Easiest way. Won't know where we'll be then."

"Very good." The commandant led them down the hall to a conference room. "If you need anything, just let one of the office personnel know."

Once he left, Gibbs divided up the stack of papers. "McGee, you and DiNozzo question her roommates and the company members. David and I will talk to her teachers."

"On it, Boss."

"McGee."

"Yes, Boss?"

"Your dad calls, let me know."

"Right." He paused. "Boss, he was going to see Brad today."

"Figured that, McGee. He'll be OK. Brad's good. No need to worry."

"Thanks, Boss."

"Let's start at Bancroft Hall," Tim suggested as he and Tony left the administration building. "Once we finish with her rack, we can find her roommates and see if anybody knows where she was going."

Tony walked by his side, content to let him lead the way. "You grew up here, Tim. Which clubs are popular with the midshipmen?"

"Tony, I didn't turn 21 until two weeks after I started at NCIS, and I was at FLETC by then."

"You've never heard of a fake ID?"

Tim just looked at him.

"Right. Forgot who I was talking to."

"Tony, I'm still getting carded. I'll be getting carded when I'm 40," Tim said, rolling his eyes. "Besides, that was 10 years ago. It's not going to be the same clubs."

"I hate it when you're right," Tony said. "Come on, let's see what we can find."

Because of the Academy regulations, Murchinson's bunk was so neat, it was easy to search.

"Nothing unusual here," Tony said. "Come on, let's find her roommates."

Half an hour later, they left the building and headed for the car.

"We should tell Gibbs we're going to the club," Tim said. "Good thing her roommate knew where she planned to go."

Tony tossed him the keys, then dialed Gibbs' cell. "Boss, we're going to a jazz club downtown called the Bitter Blues. Murchinson's roommate said that's where she and her friends went Saturday night."

The club was just a few blocks from the Academy, but at 1500 on a Monday, it was shut up tight. The men got out and looked around the outside of the building.

"Let's check out that alley," Tony said, pointing to thenarrow opening that would lead them along the right side of the building.

Trash littered the ground between the club and the warehouse next door, and the garbage bins at the end reeked of stale alcohol and vomit. Tim started looking for signs of a disturbance at the back door of the club.

"See anything?" Tony asked.

Tim shook his head. "Some scrape marks, but they look like they were from trash bags being dragged out of the club." He still pulled out the camera and shot them. "Tony, where does this alley come out? We should be close to the lot where the body was discovered if I'm remembering my geography correctly."

He was still shooting pictures when his partner called to him. "Good call, Tim."

He straightened up and walked toward where Tony stood at the end of the alley. He followed in the direction Tony pointed and could see the corner of the vacant lot where Amanda Murchinson had been found earlier on the other side of a parking lot.

"Let's call the manager and wake him up," Tim said. He got out his phone and tracked down the number, flipping the screen around so Tony could read it.

"My pleasure," Tony replied.

While he was doing that, Tim tapped into the Annapolis PD's files to see if there had been any other incidents at the club. As he scrolled down, he started cursing.

Tony looked over as he finished leaving a message for the manager. "What's wrong?"

"There have been six women abducted from this club in the last month. FBI's investigating."

It was Tony's turn to curse. "Do we call Fornell or Gibbs?"

"Fornell's got to drive up here from DC. Better call him, then Gibbs."

"You call," Tony said. "I don't want to risk another murder rap."

Tim head-slapped him, but dialed.

_"Fornell."_

"Fornell, it's McGee. We've got a dead midshipman who was last seen at the Bitter Blues in Annapolis."

_"Where's Gibbs?"_

"At the Academy, with Ziva. Tony and I just learned about the abductions. How'd the FBI get involved? These are all Annapolis women."

_"Damn politics. Victim number two is the daughter of a deputy secretary for Homeland Security."_

"Gibbs is really not going to like this."

_"He can get in line. Sacks and I will meet you at the Academy in about an hour."_

"I'll let him know."

After Tim hung up, he turned to look at Tony.

"What is Gibbs not going to like?" the senior agent said.

"FBI is involved because one of the women is the daughter of a Homeland Security political appointee."

Tony cursed. "Great. Fornell and politics. Why can't we ever get an easy case, like sailors smuggling meth?"

"Or sneaking koalas aboard subs?" Tim shrugged. "They can't all be easy." He took a deep breath. "Sacks is coming, too."

"Well, shit." Tony kicked the side of the building. "Did we walk under a ladder or something?"

Tim's laugh was short, mirthless. "I don't know, but I'm glad Gibbs is back on campus. I'd rather deliver this message over the phone."

Before he could dial, his cell rang.

"McGee."

_"Hey, son. Capt. Webber said to call you. It's a shame about Amanda."_

"Hey, Dad. We're going to find out what happened to her. What did Brad say?"

_"He's running some tests, but he agreed with Ducky that it probably is chronic bronchitis. He suggested I try the experimental treatment NIH is sponsoring."_

"Does Mom know?"

_"I'm going to wait until I get home tonight to tell her. Dr. Pitt gave me a lot of information. He seems like a good doctor."_

"He is. He saved Tony's life. We both owe him big for that."

_"Yes, you do. I'll have to thank him next time. He does know about you, right?"_

"He does. Tell Mom if she has any questions, to ask him. He's good at helping family members process this. Give her a hug for me, too."

_"I will. And you tell Tony your mom and I owe Dr. Pitt for saving him for you. We're glad you two got this chance."_

"I'll tell him."

When he hung up, Tony was looking at him again. "So what did Brad say?"

"He's running tests, but it sounds like you're not the only one who's going to be spending a lot of time at Bethesda." Tim sighed and rubbed the back of his neck. "Can this day get any worse?"

Tony stepped behind him and moved his hand out of the way, replacing it with his own. With nobody in the alley to watch, Tim could sink into the experience. As Tony's hands kneaded, Tim could feel his muscles relaxing. "Hey, it's going to be OK. Fornell can't blame me for this one, since I was with you Saturday night. We'll just get Ziva to threaten Sacks with some of her office supply torture, and he won't be an issue. And Brad's the best, so your dad's in good hands. And since that's three things, nothing else can go wrong today."

Tim had to laugh.

"Come on, Tim. Let's call Gibbs, tell him your dad's back, and let him rant about Fornell to Ziva."

Tim straightened up and called.

_"Gibbs."_

"Boss, it's McGee. Looks like Murchinson was just the latest in a string of abductions. Fornell's been investigating them. He and Sacks are meeting us at the Academy in about an hour."

_"Why?"_

"One of the women taken was a political appointee's daughter. He did some string-pulling to get the FBI on the case."

_"Dammit."_

Tim decided to ignore that. "My dad just called. He's in his office."

_"He OK?"_

"Let's just say Brad should start giving a McGee family discount at this rate."

_"Keep your chin up."_

"Thanks, Boss."

_"Come on back. Let's see what Fornell has before you question anybody else."_

Tim hung up when he heard the silence on the other end.

"Come on, Boss wants us back there." Tim stuffed his cell in his pocket and tossed the keys to Tony.

"How pissed is he?"

Tim shrugged. "About as mad as the last time Fornell showed up."

"Great."


	43. Chapter 42

When Gibbs snapped the cell phone shut, Ziva frowned. "Why is Fornell coming?"

"Ties into an FBI case." Gibbs shoved his cell in his pocket. "Sean just called to tell McGee he was back. He's waiting for us."

Ziva followed the team leader. When they reached Commander McGee's office, the door was open.

"Gibbs, Ziva," the commander said. "I wish I could say it's nice to see you again, but under the circumstances..."

"Understood, Sean," Gibbs said. "Tim mentioned you met with Brad this morning. If there's anything I can do, let me know."

As they discussed the commander's visit with Dr. Pitt, Ziva listened, but looked around the room, observing, at the same time. Her Mossad training was too ingrained for her to pass up a chance to collect intelligence, but she knew medical issues were something where she should not appear to be listening too closely. Commander McGee was organized, as she would expect from a career officer. Having met McGee's family this weekend, she recognized the people in framed photos on the shelves of his office. There were matching formal portraits featuring younger versions of McGee and Sarah, which Ziva assumed were most likely to commemorate the completion of their schooling. Sarah didn't look much different, but McGee looked impossibly young. She had to remind herself that he had started college at 16, so his photo had to be more than 15 years old. Sarah's was less than five years old. A more recent photo of the four McGees showed a family comfortable with each other, all smiles and casual contact. She remembered the photo of herself, Ari and Tali that had been lost when she was captured in Somalia. Eli had a copy, but she would not ask him for it. All those years sitting on his desk as he manipulated his children for his own ends had to have left some traces on the photo. She rolled her shoulders to release the tension that appeared whenever she thought of her father and forced herself to move on to the next picture. McGee had to have been 10 or 12, carting a small Sarah on his back, her arms wrapped around his neck. She blinked back tears as she remembered Ari doing the same thing with her and Tali. The final picture was recent enough to have Jethro in it. The dog had leaves sticking out of his fur. Behind him, Sarah's mouth was open as McGee hurled leaves at her while Tony dumped a pile on his head. Only her years of Mossad training kept her surprise off her face. She could tell Saturday that Tony had met the McGees before, since he was on a first-name basis with them. As she thought back, she realized Abby was not as familiar with them and called them Mr. and Mrs. McGee, even though she had probably known them for much longer. It would not be in character for Abby to use their titles either. She called the director by his first name to his face; something nobody except Gibbs did. Adding the pieces of evidence to the pile in her mind, Ziva was certain her suspicions of McGee and Tony were correct. It would explain the T-shirt she had found the other day. She pushed the idea aside and forced herself to listen as Gibbs began asking questions about the case.

"Murchinson was a good student," the commander said. "She was quiet, but she knew her stuff. I've had her before and encouraged her to take more of the practical electives available in the leadership school. She was solid on the theory, had a good grasp of it. But sometimes she had trouble putting it into practice; she didn't always read people well."

"Notice anything unusual in class?"

Commander McGee shook his head. "She wasn't there Thursday or Friday. She said the infirmary had diagnosed her with bronchitis, so she sent her classwork in by e-mail. As it turns out, that was probably a good thing for me. The way Dr. Pitt was talking this morning, I'm going to need to invest in some of those masks Tony has to handle all the germs students share during a semester."

"She went out Saturday night. Jazz club called Bitter Blues."

"It's not popular among the midshipmen," the commander said. "Eileen and I often go on a Friday or Saturday if we don't have other plans - sometimes for dinner, more often for drinks and dancing. We often see other faculty members there, but rarely midshipmen. The club does a lot of business when the state legislature is in session. Lots of lobbyists seem to find it a good palce to wine and dine politicians."

"Been there recently?"

He thought for a minute. "Not this weekend, obviously. We went to bed early Friday because we were meeting Tim to help with the move. After we helped the boys finish unpacking Saturday, all we wanted to do was go to bed."

"Before that? Say, last six weeks?"

He pulled out a calendar from his desk. "I think we were there Columbus Day weekend and the weekend before Halloween. The... Tim was supposed to come over on Halloween, and we were all going to go over there and let Sarah handle the trick-or-treaters who showed up at our house. But you caught a case, and he had to work."

"The Corby case." Ziva easily remembered her first case as an agent rather than a liaison officer. "We did end up working most of the weekend, as I recall."

"See anything unusual on either visit?"

The commander shook his head. "Nothing comes to mind. I didn't see Murchinson there, if that's what you're asking."

Gibbs jerked his head. "She's not the first. Other women disappeared from there. FBI's bringing the files. Know any regulars?"

The commander tapped a finger on his desk. "I can think of a few names of people we often see there. I don't know if they go every week or not. Eileen might know some as well. She knows more of the officers' spouses and city residents than I do from her basketball leagues and volunteer work. I can call her."

"Do that." Gibbs turned to Ziva. "David, meet McGee and DiNozzo in the conference room. See if Ducky has anything for us. I'll be along in a few minutes."

Ziva nodded. She wondered why Gibbs was staying behind, but knew better than to ask.

When she entered the room the team was using as its base while at the Academy, McGee was in front of the laptop and Tony was crouched down next to him, arm around the back of his chair. She could hear Ducky's voice coming through the laptop's speakers as she shut the door.

McGee looked up. "Wait, Ducky. Ziva and Gibbs are here."

"Gibbs is still talking to your father," she said. "He will meet us here in a few minutes."

Tony shifted aside so Ziva could crouch by McGee's other shoulder.

"Good afternoon, my dear," Ducky said. "Now, as I was saying, our young midshipman was badly beaten, but she did not die from her wounds. They were, in fact, inflicted post-mortem."

"What did she die from?" Tony asked.

"Patience, my dear Anthony. I realize that you are leading the team while Jethro is busy with Commander McGee, but you do not need to channel his impatience."

"Ducky." Tony almost growled the medical examiner's name, and Ziva had to keep her lips from twitching into a smile.

"Well. As I was saying, the bulk of this young lady's injuries were inflicted post-mortem. She died of suffocation, judging by the petechial hemorrhaging. There were also some marks around her mouth, wrists and ankles made while she was still alive. They had already started to bruise before she expired."

"Any idea what they were from?" McGee asked.

"I rather suspect the facial marks are from our killer's hands," Ducky said. "Mr. Palmer found some residue in that same area and has taken it up to Abigail for her to test in her mass spectrometer. When we know what it is from, we may have a better idea of how our young victim met her untimely end. The other marks are consistent with being tied up."

"What about when?" Tony asked. "If the killer bruised her, how long did he have her before she died?"

"I'll need to more closely examine the damage to the underlying tissue, but I would imagine two to three hours," Ducky said. "My preliminary time of death was a few hours off. She most likely died between 0100 and 0300 Sunday, which would mean these facial marks were inflicted between 2200 Saturday and midnight."

Ziva nodded. "So we should focus on her movements from 2100 on."

"Most likely, my dear," Ducky said. "I will let Abigail know to contact you once she has results."

"Thanks, Ducky," McGee said, closing the video feed window.

"Now, where's Gibbs?" Tony asked as he stepped back and took a seat at the table.

Ziva moved to the other side so she could watch both men. "He is still with Commander McGee. He told me to go on ahead and for us to contact Ducky and get his results. He did not say why." She did not say anything as McGee and Tony exchanged a look, instead filing it into the mental folder she had labeled as proof. "The commander said Murchinson had been sick with bronchitis on Thursday and Friday."

Tony frowned. "And she went out Saturday night? That doesn't seem to make much sense."

"I don't think she would still be considered sick," McGee asked. "Sarah had bronchitis a couple of years ago, and she only missed a couple of days of classes until the antibiotics kicked in so she wasn't contagious. After that, she just had to wait for the cough to go away. She was pretty miserable, but not sick enough to keep her from doing anything non-strenuous."

"Why is Fornell meeting us here?" Ziva asked. "Gibbs did not tell me anything."

"Because six other women have been abducted after having gone to this club in the last couple of months," McGee said. "The FBI got involved because the father of one of the women is politically connected and pulled strings."

"That would explain why Gibbs was asking your father about the club regulars."

"Wait, that's that club?" Tony said.

"I don't think my parents ever mentioned the name," McGee said. "I know they go to one a lot."

"Yes," Ziva said. "You were supposed to go with them on Halloween, but we were investigating the Corby case. Gibbs asked your father for the names of some regulars, and he is asking your mother as well."

"That might help," Tony said. "If this guy is snatching women repeatedly, he must be at the club a lot."

"So when will Fornell be here?" Ziva asked.

McGee checked his watch. "He and Sacks should be here soon."

"Did you have to remind me?" Tony groaned. "That smug bastard always makes me want to hit him."

"Hit who, Dinozzo?"

"Dammit, stop sneaking up on us, Boss," Tony said.

Gibbs closed the door. "Who?"

"Sacks." Tony wrinkled his nose. "Fornell is bad enough, but Sacks is 10 times worse."

Before Gibbs could say anything, Abby's voice could be heard from the computer. Ziva got up and walked around so she could see the video feed.

"Timmy, I've got your answers," she said.

"What answers, Abbs?" Gibbs said.

"Gibbs, Gibbs, Gibbs!" Abby looked like she was bouncing. "The residue was from duct tape and had chloroform mixed in. Somebody drugged your midshipman, then taped her mouth closed."

"A gag," Tony said. "Boss, I'll bet that's why she died. Ducky said she suffocated. The killer didn't beat her until after she was dead."

"The bronchitis!" McGee sat up straight. "Boss, remember that Navy lieutenant, the one who was tracking the online predators?"

"The kidnapper left her in a car trunk," Ziva said. "She was in a coma when we found her, and Ducky said she had less time than a healthy woman because she had recently had bronchitis."

"Right," McGee said. "Now imagine a woman who still has the bronchitis and who has duct tape over her mouth. She probably wouldn't have lasted long at all." He looked back at the computer. "Abby, can you ask Ducky how long it would have taken her to suffocate under those circumstances, and how long it would take if she was healthy?"

"Sure, McGee."

Ducky popped up on the video feed just as the commandant was ushering Fornell and Sacks into the room.

"Gibbs," Fornell said.

"Hold on, Tobias," Gibbs said. "Duck, what ya got for me?"

"Ah, Jethro," the medical examiner said. "Based on the condition of our midshipman's lungs, I would estimate she probably died about two hours after the killer taped her mouth. Had she been healthy, she likely would have lasted six or eight hours."

"So if he beat her only after he found out she was already dead..." McGee said.

"... maybe he wasn't trying to kill her. If Ducky's right, she would have been alive had it not been for the bronchitis," Tony said.

"The bastard wanted to take her, not kill her," Fornell said. "After she died, he needed to get rid of the body."

"An excellent hypothesis, Agent Fornell," Ducky said. "Now if you all shall excuse me, I need to see if our midshipman can tell me anything else. I shall call if I learn more."

McGee closed the laptop and pushed it into the middle of the table as the rest of the agents found seats.

"OK, Fornell," Gibbs said. "What ya got?"

Fornell opened a file folder and took out pictures, passing them around. "Six women. All in their 20s, all petite, all brunette. Each went missing from Bitter Blues on a Friday or a Saturday night. None of them have turned up, until now. We got involved after the second one disappeared." He pointed to the photo Tony was examining. "Deborah Alexander. Her father is a deputy secretary for Homeland Security, and when she went missing, he made some calls. Like the other victims, she was at the club with a group of women the night she disappeared. All of the disappearances have occurred when the group split up to dance. We think the kidnapper lures the women out of the club and takes them."

"So none of the missing women were dating anybody?" Tony asked.

"No, DiNozzo." Fornell paged through the file. "All of the victims were single or casually dating."

"But that wasn't true of all the women in their group, was it?" McGee asked.

"No," Sacks said.

"If they were out at a club, why would they not have their boyfriends along?" Ziva said.

"Girls' night out," Tony said. "It's a time-honored tradition in this country. Women go out with their friends, no guys allowed. I think your American counterparts use it to talk about men."

"Girls' night out is exactly what the other women called it. You spend much time at these estrogen-fests, DiNozzo? You seem to know all about them," Sacks said. "Since all the disappearances happened late in the evening, after one or two other women from the group had left, nobody was concerned when the victims disappeared and assumed at the time that they had also left."

"So how did the killer know which ones are single?" McGee asked. "The engaged and married women would have rings, but not the ones in relationships that aren't formalized."

Gibbs looked at his watch. "DiNozzo, David, split up the women who were with the victims and question them. McGee, see if you can trace Murchinson's cell phone and find out where the killer had her stashed between the kidnapping and when he dumped the body. Call the people your parents are pulling together, see who was at the club each night, find out if they noticed anybody else there all those nights. Whoever this bastard is, he has to be a regular, and he has to be talking to at least one person in the group before he picks his mark."

"Gibbs, this case is still FBI jurisdiction," Fornell said. "We're not turning it over to you."

"Dead midshipman is our case. Murder trumps kidnapping."

"We've been working the case for a month. You've been working it less than a day."

"FBI doesn't have jurisdiction over Murchinson. You can't stop us from investigating."

"You want to take that attitude, Jethro?" Fornell took as step closer to Gibbs. "We can take this to our directors."

"You do that, you're going to lose," Gibbs said.

"You seriously think NCIS will get lead on a case with political implications that the FBI is already investigating?" Sacks said. "Especially with you leading the team? You've pissed off every reporter in the tri-state area."

Ziva took a step back as Gibbs turned his glare on the outspoken FBI agent. She found her estimation of Sacks increased a bit as he held his ground, not backing down. Nobody else in the room moved. After an eternal minute, Gibbs snapped out, "DiNozzo, David, McGee. Take the truck, go home, report at 0700 tomorrow."

Ziva looked at McGee and DiNozzo. Tony motioned with his head to the door, and they quietly packed up and left as Gibbs pulled out his cell phone and dialed.

"Vance? Gibbs," was the last thing they heard.

As the team went their separate ways for the evening, Ziva knew tomorrow would be a long day and Gibbs would take his irritation with the FBI out on them. But she had one very important errand to run before she ended her day.

An hour after leaving the Navy Yard, she pulled up outside McGee and Tony's house, steaming pizzas sitting on the passenger seat of her car. When she knocked on the door, McGee opened it, wearing jeans and an MIT sweatshirt.

"Ziva?"

"Good evening, McGee. I thought you might not have had a chance to go shopping yet, so I thought I would bring by some dinner."

He stepped back and let her in. "Thanks, Ziva. Tony was going to make some pasta, but he hadn't started yet."

"Hadn't started what yet?" Tony walked down the stairs from the second floor.

"Ziva brought us dinner," McGee said.

"Thanks, Zee," Tony said. "Come on in, sit down." He led the way back to the kitchen. "Where's Jethro?" he asked Tim.

"I let him out back, since he was cooped up all day," McGee said. "Unless he barks to come in, I'm leaving him out there until we finish dinner."

"Is he used to your new home yet?" Ziva asked.

"He enjoys having a yard to run around in," McGee said as he pulled plates from the cabinet. "He always likes visiting my parents because he can run around there, but he still hasn't figured out he has this yard all the time."

Ziva smiled, glad that McGee had given her an opening. "Yes, your father has a picture of him in a pile of leaves in his office." She noticed the two men looking at each other and hurried on before they could say something. "It confirmed for me something I have suspected for quite a while, and was almost certain of after Saturday."

When neither one said anything, she realized she was going to have to say it. "How long have you two been together?"

She sat back and waited for one of them to answer.

"Gibbs was wrong," Tony said after a minute. "He didn't think you knew."

"Gibbs knows?" Ziva said.

"He stopped by yesterday with Chinese," McGee said. "I'm going to stop opening the door when team members come by with food."

Ziva felt a twist in her chest at his words. "You do not want me to know. You still do not trust me."

"No!" McGee reached over and put a hand on her shoulder. "It's not that, Ziva. We just..." He sighed.

"We didn't really want anybody to know," Tony said. "Rule 12, and Vance."

Ziva felt her heart drop. She had forgotten Rule 12. "Gibbs, he will not make one of you leave the team, will he?"

Tony shook his head. "No, he said as long as it stays out of the office, he doesn't mind." He smiled, a small smile that somehow seemed brighter than his usual big grins. "He actually approves, said he'd keep Vance from trying to split us up if he finds out."

"Yeah, Gibbs said he would be the only one to decide if we need to be split up," McGee said. "If anything happens, I'm off to CyberCrimes."

"Forgive me if this sounds like I am being -- what is the word? -- nosy," Ziva said. "I have been watching you for quite some time. I noticed something was different when I returned from Somalia. I do not believe that you will let this interfere with the job." She chewed her lower lip. "I have some experience... With Michael, I could not separate the two. Nor with Mossad. I know, too well, what it is like to keep two parts of your life separate, the difficulty it takes to keep each one contained when they want to blend together." She took a deep breath and pushed those memories away. This was not about her. "Now that I know, I can say that you are among the best I have seen at keeping your parts separated so they do not interfere. Had I not been ... away, I do not think I would have been able to tell. Abby had not noticed the change, and she knows you both better than almost anybody."

"You and Abby talked about us?" McGee said.

"Yes, after I returned. I knew something was different and asked her about it. She had not noticed." Ziva smiled. "After I mentioned it, she noticed, but attributed it to something else."

"What did she think it was?" Tony asked.

"She thought that the time you worked together over the summer had forced you to rely on each other and Gibbs more than when I was still here. She said you and Gibbs had always been able to communicate without speaking, and she thought you had just taught McGee the same skills."

"Oh, there were skills involved," Tony said, smirking. When McGee reached over and head-slapped him, Ziva couldn't help but laugh.

"You see," she said. "You are the same McGee and Tony I have worked with for almost five years. Just ... better."

"Thanks, Zee," Tony said. "We just have one request."

"I will not tell anybody else about you," she said. "It is your business, not theirs. If you do ever need something though, please let me help. I owe you a great deal, and I would do anything to be able to repay my debt."

McGee raised one eyebrow. "There is one thing," he said. "Gibbs warned us that Abby is thinking of asking me out. Do you know anything about that?"

Ziva thought back to her conversation with the scientist earlier in the fall. "I believe she has become interested in you in that way, McGee. However, I do not know if she has decided to do anything about it, or if she has since realized you are not available. She mentioned you had split up with a girlfriend recently. This was a firescreen, no?"

"Smokescreen, Ziva," Tony said. "Yes, McWorry here had mentioned something to Abby that he realized she might be able to connect back to me, so we did a little smoke and mirrors to throw her off the scent."

Ziva thought for a second, wanting to select her words carefully. "Abby has a big heart, but it is easily bruised. If she finds out you have not been truthful with her, I do not believe she will take it well."


	44. Chapter 43

When Tony walked back into the kitchen after putting the pizza boxes with the trash, Tim was washing the glasses they had used with dinner.

He leaned against the counter. "So, Ziva knows."

Tim looked over as he rinsed the last glass. "Do we care? I mean, do you care that our relationship's not so secret anymore?"

Tony rolled his shoulders. "If everybody takes it the way Gibbs and Ziva have, I don't care if everybody on the team knows."

Tim put the glass on the counter to drain and turned to face Tony and grinned. "You sure you're not just saying that because you want the food?"

"The food's a nice perk, but no, McSuspicious." Tony grabbed Tim's hand, led him into the living room, and pulled him down on the couch. "I just don't like hiding us. I've done the secret date before, and it was bad in all kinds of ways."

Tim slid his arm around Tony's shoulders and pulled him close. "Hiding isn't great, but depending on how people react, telling people could make things worse."

Tony nodded, his head nudging Tim's chin. "Then maybe we just do what we've been doing. I mean, it's working so far. We just let the best investigative team in NCIS history use its natural skills and figure us out. It's not like any of them are going to freak."

"I'm still not positive about Vance," Tim said. "But you're right, the team itself will be fine." He fell silent for a minute. "Except for Abby." He sighed. "I don't know what to do about her. I feel guilty lying to her like we've been doing. But..."

"I know." Tony reached up to pull Tim down for a kiss. "I don't want you headed to CyberCrimes. I need you on my six there at work and here at home." He settled back into Tim's arms, enjoying the sense of security it gave him. "Should we tell her?"

"How, exactly? Just go down to her lab and say, 'Hey, Abby. Tony and I aren't just sharing a house, we're sharing a bed.' Announcing it seems ... hinky, somehow. And then I have to admit that I lied to her about the girlfriend to throw her off our scent. And then what, say 'we're telling you this so you don't ask me out, find out, get mad, and make Gibbs ship me off to CyberCrimes?' Can you picture yourself saying that? Because I can't." Tim dropped his cheek to the top of Tony's head.

"You always have to McComplicate things, Tim," Tony said. "What if we don't _tell her_ tell her? What if we just don't hide it? We talk about plans if they come up; we act like we normally would if we all go out for drinks after work. Abby makes brilliant deductions from almost no evidence every day. She sees me put my arm around you at the bar Friday night, she's going to realize we're more than housemates."

"And if she calls us on lying?" Tim said.

"Then we deal with it." Tony sighed and wrapped his arms over Tim's. "Look, I love Abby. She's the little sister I never had. And you two as a couple were good together. You might possibly have been the oddest combination of people I've ever seen, but somehow you worked. But I think we work better. If I wasn't here, if we hadn't stopped dancing around the idea and finally decided to try it out, I'd be the first one suggesting you two get back together. When I see you in the lab, I think you share a brain. But she had her chance, and she didn't fight for you. I will. I am." He took a deep breath, knowing he would only ever manage to say these next words once. "If Gibbs had gone all Rule 12 on our ass Sunday... if he had told us one of us had to leave, I would have fought him on it. And I would have left NCIS if that's what it took to keep you. Because I've had one dad not want me because of who I am, and I dealt with it. I could handle that again. But I don't think I could handle losing you." And then Tim's arms were squeezing him tightly. When Tony looked up, he could see awe and shock and love and trust all in Tim's eyes.

When Tim opened his mouth to speak, Tony slid a hand up and placed it over his mouth. "I know, Tim. I'm glad it didn't come to that. But I would have." He smiled. "Hell, you could run NCIS one day if you want. You could do that, and do it damn well. I'm too much like Gibbs to do something like that. Team leader, sure. I'd love to step into his shoes when he retires, which I hope won't be for a long time. But that's as high as I go."

This time it was Tim placing a hand over Tony's mouth. "And I could just as easily become Thom E. Gemcity full time if we ever had to make that choice. My publisher would certainly like me to write more. But Gibbs is fine with us; he's going to make sure Vance is fine with us. And everybody else can, as Gibbs would say, stick it."

Tony snorted. "I'd pay money to see you say that to Abby." He started to sit up. "You'd better let Jethro in — even with a fur coat, he's got to be pretty chilly."

"What are you going to do?"

"I thought I'd give your dad a call, see how things went with Brad. I figure he could use the ear of somebody who's going through what he is."

Tim pulled him back in for a hug. "You really do have a soft, gooey center under all your jokes." He dropped a kiss on Tony's head. "Thank you. I wanted to call and see how he and my mom are doing, but... It's a little too much sometimes, you know?"

Tony nodded. "I'll let him know you're thinking about him. Why don't you go do some writing? Torturing agents Tommy, McGregor and Lisa should make you feel better." He stood up and shooed Tim out of the room, then headed upstairs. It would be easier to talk where Tim couldn't overhear, just in case.

He sprawled across the bed and dialed the McGees. Somehow their number had slipped onto his speed dial list, along with Sarah's. He wasn't sure exactly when the McGees had become his family more than his own, but it was comforting somehow. Of course, it also meant he was at least as worried about Sean as Tim was. Maybe more, since he had a better understanding of what it meant. Tim had seen him recover from the plague, watched as he coughed up blood and mucus. But he hadn't ever felt that terror at realizing your own body just didn't want you to live. The tightness from lack of air, the inability to do anything without triggering coughing spasms and more blood and more mucus. Even Gibbs, who had seen him at the lowest point, who had saved him by ordering him to live, couldn't fully understand.

Tony cut off his thoughts before he sent himself into a spiral of gloom and punched the button on his phone. Just a couple of rings later, Sean answered.

"Sean? It's Tony. I wanted to call and see how you were doing after meeting with Brad."

"Not to give me the secret handshake?" The older McGee tried, but Tony could hear in his voice how forced the joke was.

"You've got to be on your second tour with Brad to get that," Tony replied. "Or, you know, have a disease from the middle ages. So what did he have to say?"

Sean's sigh floated over the line. "He said I've got chronic bronchitis, possibly borderline COPD, most likely from asbestos exposure from the ships I served on early in my career. He's running more tests Thursday, then probably starting me on some drugs and breathing exercises — some special program he developed."

"I know the one," Tony said. "He's got me on a version of it. Or at least he did. The side effects from one of the drugs were too severe compared to where I was physically, so he's going to try something else. I'll find out Thursday when I go in."

"My appointment's at 11:30, since I don't have a class during the block before lunch."

"I'll miss you then. Brad always schedules me first thing so I can get done and get into work. Our job is too unpredictable to be able to count on going over there mid-day or after work." He changed the subject. "How's Eileen taking things?"

There was a silence on the end of the line. Finally, Sean spoke. "She's coping. She's definitely worried, but she also knows from you and Tim that Brad's among the best at what he does. I think she figures if he can save you from the plague, he can keep me reasonably healthy." He sighed. "I haven't told her that I'm probably in much worse shape than you. I didn't think it would do any good."

"Probably not," Tony said. "I know Tim's had a tough time dealing with me, and he was here for the plague. He goes all McMom on me, and I try to let him." He smiled. "Don't get me wrong, I'm glad he cares. There's something... comforting about knowing I matter that much to somebody. It's just that sometimes I want to just be me. Just Tony DiNozzo, federal agent. Not Tony DiNozzo, medical miracle who must pay for surviving for the rest of his life and might someday lose his field clearance over it." He sighed. "Sorry. Didn't meant to take it out on you. It just really sucks sometimes."

Sean snorted. "Don't apologize, Tony. I've been doing a lot of feeling sorry for myself today, too, and I'm not even in your position. I've got almost 40 years in the Navy. I could retire tomorrow if I wanted. I can't imagine facing this 20 or 25 years ago." He paused. "Gibbs stayed to talk after he sent Ziva out today."

"Did he want to talk to you about this or to tell you he knows about Tim and me?"

"Both, I think." Sean paused. "Tony, I don't know a lot about your family, so if I'm overstepping, please forgive me. But I've gotten the impression you're not close and there's a reason for that. Gibbs made it quite clear that he was talking to me today as one dad to another."

"As far as I'm concerned, he is my dad," Tony said. "It meant a lot when he stopped by Sunday to tell us he knew and he was not only OK with it, he was pleased."

"He's not the only one," Sean said. "Tim never brought many of his dates home, so we knew you two were serious just because we did get to meet you. But even compared to the few we'd met, you seem the most right for him." He chuckled. "Don't get me wrong, we enjoy spending time with Abby. And I can tell from seeing all of you in action that she's part of your family and will always be around. She adds a certain exuberance to things. But I know my son, and I can tell he's happier with you than he's ever been. And Gibbs said basically the same thing about you."

Tony couldn't help smiling. "Thanks, Sean. That means a lot to hear you say that. Although I'll bet Gibbs said the same thing in about three words."

"Four, I think," Sean said. "I'm sorry for the circumstances that made it possible to talk with him today, but I'm glad we did."

Tony shook his head. "I hate cases like this. I hate it when anybody dies, but this one was just so senseless. Especially since she wasn't supposed to die."

"She wasn't?"

"No. The dirtbag taped her mouth shut after he drugged her. Because she was still recovering from bronchitis, she died in just a couple of hours. We think if she hadn't been sick, she would still be alive. Of course, then he would have taken her wherever he's taking these women and done god knows what to her, so maybe this was the less painful fate."

"There are others?" Tony realized Sean didn't know the extent of the case. "Six others that we know of, all taken from Bitter Blues in the last month or so."

"That's horrible," Sean said. "Richard must be outraged."

"Richard?"

"The club owner," Sean said. "Eileen and I have gotten to know him since we've been going there. His wife plays in one of Eileen's basketball leagues, so we see them a lot. They're good people."

"Sean, can you give me some contact information for him? I don't know what we're going to do tomorrow, but I'm sure we're going to want to talk to him."

"You think he had something to do with these missing women?"

Tony shrugged, forgetting Sean couldn't see him. "I don't know, but somebody's using his club. Even if he doesn't have anything to do with it, we might need his cooperation to figure out who is behind it."

"I'll have to look it up, but I'll e-mail it to you and Tim after I get off the phone."

"Thanks, Sean. Speaking of Tim, I'd better go check on him. McWriter was pounding away on the typewriter when I came up. Hopefully he's gotten everything out of his system by now. Oh, and Ziva knows about us, too. She stopped by tonight with pizza. So you don't have to hide us from either her or Gibbs. Just watch out around the FBI agents we're working with. One of them is one step away from getting Gibbs-slapped back to Quantico."

"Tell Tim I said hi and not to worry. I know he will, but please let him know I asked him to try not to."

Tony laughed. "I'll tell him, but I don't think it will do any good. And give Eileen a hug for me. If she wants somebody to talk to and doesn't want to worry Tim or Sarah, she can always call me."

Tony could hear Tim's typewriter clacking before he even got halfway down the stairs, so he walked to the study door and looked in. Tim's back was to the door, and judging by the pile of papers on the desk, he'd gotten a lot written. Probably free writing. Tim's perfectionist tendencies would have caused him to shred most of what he'd written if he had been working on L.J. Tibbs' next adventure for the past hour.

Tony waited until Tim seemed to hit a stopping point before walking into the room. "Your dad says hi and asked me to convince you not to worry."

Tim turned to look at him. "Does he really think I'm not going to worry?"

"No, he said he knows you will but to try anyway." Tony smiled, and was pleased to get a small smile from Tim in return. "So do you feel better now?"

"I guess." Tim pulled the cover over his typewriter and tucked the pages away. "I didn't get anything done on my book, but I did a lot of freewriting."

"You needed it," Tony said. "I'm probably going to be playing pretty late tonight, too. That's just what we do."

"I like listening to you play," Tim said. "Sometimes I'll stand in the doorway and just listen and watch you relax. It hurts sometimes, because I can hear all the things you can't say. There are times where your music seems to almost be crying, and I know that's what's inside you. And I can tell when you're almost done, because the music smooths out — more like the music on some of my vintage jazz records. It smooths me out too, knowing that you're feeling better." The tips of his ears turned red. "I know it's personal, and I try not to because I know how I would feel if anybody looked at my freewriting folder. But sometimes... It just reassures me that you're OK."

Tony offered his hand and pulled Tim up from the chair, folding him into a hug. "It's OK. I would never look at your free writing, but I like knowing you sometimes listen to me play. I didn't mind when Gibbs did either. It's not quite as personal. I put my feelings in there, but I'm not saying what they are or why I have them. Anyone who hears my music may feel something, but the specific emotion and the reason for it is going to be unique to them. I may be thinking about how much I wish your dad wasn't going through this, while you may be thinking about what might happen when our goth queen finds out about us and what she might do, and Gibbs may be thinking about why he never calls his own dad. And yet the music speaks to all of us. But if I read something you write, that's different. That would be like all three of us reading how Agent Tommy and Tibbs are trapped in a situation where only one person can survive and each wants to sacrifice himself to save the other. We might react differently, but we're getting the same emotions from you."

Tim pulled back and looked Tony in the eye. "You're very philosophical tonight."

Tony shrugged one shoulder. "Lots to think about." He stepped back and took Tim by the hand. "Come on, come lie on the sofa while I play."

"Are you sure?" Tim followed him into the living room. "Between talking to my dad and finding out Murchinson died because her lungs weren't strong enough to handle a couple of hours being gagged and having to listen to Sacks' cracks this afternoon and knowing more are coming tomorrow, you've got a lot going on."

"We've all got a lot going on," Tony said. "I don't know what kind of music it will be. I never do until my fingers hit the keys. I don't think about it, I just play. Like you and your keys. I'll know what I feel when I hear it. But I know I want you there. I want you to know that whatever Sacks dishes out, whatever happens to your dad, whatever happens in the field, we face it together."

Tim just smiled at him and lay on the sofa, pulling the fleece blanket over himself while Tony went and sat at his keyboard. Jethro padded into the room and lay down on the floor by Tim's head, so he could reach down and scratch the dog behind the ears.

When he started playing, Tony wondered himself what he would hear. At first, his music was all over the place.

He heard sorrow over Sean. He wouldn't tell Tim or Eileen, maybe not even Sean, but he'd done his research. Even if Brad was very good at what he did, Sean's quality of life would drastically be reduced before many more years. His chances of being able to play with his future grandchildren, to take them to the park and play ball with them, decreased every year. The navy officer was in excellent shape for his age, but even with that, the lung issues — as Brad had mentioned to him — were probably not reversible in the older sailors with asbestos exposure. All Brad could hope to do was slow the decline and to keep Sean off oxygen for as long as possible.

He heard hope that he and Tim might be ready to adopt children soon enough for Sean to enjoy time with his grandchildren. Hope that they would be fine with Abby hanging over their heads; with the worry that anytime Tony went into the field, he ran the risk of getting into a situation where his lungs kept him from getting out in one piece; with the concern that Sacks would make one too many comments tomorrow and Tony would punch him in the face.

He heard anger at Sacks questioning his manhood, anger at the dirtbag who killed Amanda Murchinson just by being careless, anger that all it would take was one person intent on causing trouble at the agency and he and Tim could be hauled up in front of Vance on charges that would never be leveled against them if he was dating Ziva or Tim was dating Abby, anger that people could look the other way in those cases, but not in this.

And he heard the beginnings of acceptance. Acceptance of his choice to be with Tim, no matter what the cost. Acceptance of the risks in his career, in the field. Acceptance of the pain that goes along with having family to love enough that he could feel their problems. Acceptance of the uncertainty of life, of the chance that he could lose Tim tomorrow to a bullet the way Gibbs lost Shannon or they could grow old together until they were as dotty as Ducky's mother. Acceptance of a future that could include a houseful of children or none except Jethro.

When Tony finally lifted his fingers from the keys, he was emotionally drained. He looked at the clock and realized he had been playing for almost two hours. Little wonder his fingers were beginning to cramp. He turned to see Tim had dropped off to sleep at some point. He thought about leaving him there, but he could tell the sofa was about three inches too short for Tim's long frame and he'd be stiff in the morning.

Walking over to the end where Tim's head lay, he shook his shoulder gently. "Come on, McSleeping Beauty. Time for bed."


	45. Chapter 44

The next morning, Tim and Tony were at the Navy Yard by 0630. They weren't the only ones starting early; Ziva walked in right behind them.

"As I promised last night, I have brought coffee for each of us," she said as they rode up in the elevator.

"We picked up breakfast," Tim said. "Today's going to be a long day."

"Yeah, and we're stuck with Sacks," Tony grumbled.

"Would you like me to kill him for you?" Ziva asked.

Tim stifled a chuckle. "With a paperclip or a stapler?"

"That would depend on how badly he has pissed on Gibbs."

"Off, Ziva," Tony said. This time Tim couldn't help laughing.

Gibbs wasn't in the bullpen when they reached their floor, but the cup of coffee on his desk indicated he was around somewhere. Tim started running Murchinson's cell phone, but Tony and Ziva hesitated.

"It's too early to start calling people," Tony said. "Tim, did Gibbs tell you to check on the club staff?"

Tim shook his head. "I can do it, though. Their names are in the FBI files somewhere. Now where did I put those duplicates Fornell gave us?" He hunted around in his backpack for a minute before pulling a list from a folder, then started running the names. "Either of you have any idea why this might have just started?"

"Did it just start?" Ziva asked. "Agent Fornell said the FBI is only working on this case because one of the women is politically connected."

"So if there were other cases at other clubs..." Tony said.

"...Local LEOs would have handled them, and the FBI wouldn't necessarily know." Tim stood. "Tony, let me set up some searches on your computer. Mine's already running too many."

"You're searching all local police reports in the tri-state area for the last year to find other women who went missing after last being seen at a nightclub?" Tony moved aside as Tim sat down in his chair.

"Exactly. And with me writing the search syntax, we might actually get just the ones we're looking for." Tim punched in the search parameters as Tony stuck his tongue out at him. "If we can find other cases, we might be able to narrow down the possibilities."

Before Tim even made it back to his desk, Tony's computer started beeping as it spit out search results.

"Tony, put them up on the plasma," Tim said.

"On it, McBoss," Tony said, throwing a ball of paper at him.

As the police reports appeared on the big screen, Tim and Ziva moved to get a better view. Tim pulled out his iPhone and started making notes. "Looks like Bitter Blues isn't the only club that's been targeted," he said. "Here's one outside Baltimore, and another couple in DC."

"And two more in Alexandria, plus a third in Frederickburg," Ziva said. "This is much bigger than we thought."

"Almost 50 women missing so far," Tim said. "How come nobody noticed this before?"

"These guys are smart," Tony said, walking over to stand with them. "No more than 10 reports from any one club, and they do it pretty quickly. Two months, maybe a little more, then they move on. And these are all adult women, no indication of violence. Local LEOs in these bigger cities have a lot on their plate. If they didn't turn anything up by the time the dirtbags moved on, it probably got moved into the cold case files." He cursed. "These guys could have kept getting away with it if they hadn't snatched that deputy secretary's daughter. Dammit, justice shouldn't depend on whether you've got connections or not."

Tim put a hand to his shoulder. "Tony, it doesn't matter how we found out about this. What matters is we did, and we're going to nail these dirtbags. They made their first mistake when they when they tried to abduct a Navy midshipman and got us involved, and it's going to be their last because we're going to catch them before they do this again."

"McGee is right," Ziva said.

"McGee's right about what?" Gibbs strode into the bullpen and grabbed his coffee.

Tim quickly outlined what he'd found.

"Good work. McGee-"

"Track down the ownership for each club, look for common links between them."

Gibbs nodded. "DiNozzo-"

"Go through the police reports, talk to the local LEOs for these cases."

"David-"

"Start talking to the companions of each woman and see if they noticed anything."

Tim used the staff background checks running on his computer to start building his list of possible connections. He hadn't been at it for very long when he flagged a possible lead.

"Boss, I might have something."

"Might, McGee?"

Before Tim could explain, Fornell and Sacks walked in.

"Conference room, Tobias." Gibbs jerked his head toward the elevator.

That left Sacks standing in the middle of the bullpen.

"All the little navy cops hard at work I see," he said. "Oh, wait, DiNozzo just sits back and supervises, right?"

Tim fisted his hands under his desk and looked over to see Tony staring determinedly at his screen.

"Agent Sacks, I do not think you should speak without knowing what we have discovered this morning," Ziva said. "It was watching us right in the face."

"Staring, Ziva," Tony said. "And that's a good point. How did the great and mighty FBI miss almost 50 missing women from three states? Oh, right, because none of them had high-powered daddies making a fuss about them."

Tim's hands relaxed a fraction at Tony's voice. He was sarcastic, but his voice lacked the edginess that it often got when he was close to losing his temper. This was going to get ugly, but it looked like Tony was enough under control not to throw the first punch. Most of him hoped Sacks had similar restraint, but a small part of him wanted to see the smug FBI agent go too far so Tim would have a chance to punch that self-satisfied smile off his face.

Before either one could speak further, Tim's computer beeped.

"Guys, I definitely have something," he said.

"What, Tim?" Tony asked.

"Should we not wait for Gibbs and Agent Fornell?" Ziva asked.

Tim ignored her and started sending documents to the plasma.

"At each of the clubs in question, they hired somebody a week to two weeks before the abductions started, and that person left a week to two weeks after the abductions ended." He pulled up more documents. "The names are all different, and the ones that have photos show that they are actually different people. This is bigger than just a one- or two-person operation."

Tony nodded. "And at Bitter Blues?"

"The manager started two weeks before any of the abductions. It looks like he added several new staff members and others left. We've got a dozen names to check out to figure out who's behind it."

"What about the owner?" Sacks said.

Tim shook his head. "Different owners. A couple of the clubs are part of a chain; others are independent. Bitter Blues is owned by an Annapolis businessman who has interests in several properties in the city, but none outside the capital. Richard Downing." He pulled up a photo. "I haven't done a deep search on him, but nothing hinky in what I've found so far."

"No, your dad said he was a nice guy," Tony said. "His wife and your mom play basketball together."

"And just when did you and McGee's dad get to be so friendly?" Sacks said.

"My father teaches at the Academy," Tim said, fighting to keep his tone even. "Amanda Murchinson was a student of his."

"So your father has a tie to the dead woman and the owner of the club where she went missing? Ever think you shouldn't be on this case, McGee? Or the rest of you?" Whatever else Sacks was going to say was cut off as Gibbs and Fornell walked into the bullpen.

"Agent Sacks," Fornell said. "NCIS is taking the lead on this case, per order of the FBI director."

Sacks frowned. "But this is now crossing state lines."

"NCIS is the agency that discovered that. They have jurisdiction over the only dead victim. It's their lead." Fornell was even terser than usual. He was going to start sounding like Gibbs if he got any more terse.

"McGee, report." Gibbs stood in front of the plasma.

Tim raced through everything he'd found so far, and added in what Tony had said about Downing.

"Sean is friends with Downing?" Gibbs said.

"He gave us his contact info, Boss," Tony said.

"Fornell, why don't you and Sacks follow up on the older cases? See if you can find these men McGee identified at each of the older abduction sites. There's a conference room upstairs you can work in. If we can track them, maybe we can shut this thing down before they strike again."

Fornell just nodded. Sacks opened his mouth, but shut it when Fornell pointed in the direction of the stairs.

Once the FBI agents had left, Tim suggested something that had been on his mind since yesterday. "Boss, if we need to go in there and find this guy, why not send Tony and I in there with my parents? We were supposed to meet them there a few weeks ago, so it would be good cover - especially since they're regulars."

Gibbs jerked his head so all three agents were standing around his desk. "First, your parents are civilians, not cops." He hesitated, and Tim jumped in.

"Ziva knows; it's not an issue."

Gibbs just raised an eyebrow, looked at Ziva, then Tony, then back at Tim. "Second, we do that and you might as well out yourselves to the entire agency and the FBI. That what you want?"

Tim looked at Tony, who nodded. "We're not taking out an announcement in the paper, but we're not hiding it any more either. If people figure it out, they figure it out. Besides, everybody except Sacks and Fornell know Tony and I are roommates. We can always tell Fornell and Sacks that my parents invited us both because I had mentioned Tony plays blues piano and they thought he'd enjoy it."

"McGee, that's it," Gibbs said.

"What's it?" Tim hoped he didn't look as confused as he felt.

"We get Downing to let us send DiNozzo in there as a musician. You and Ziva can go in to watch, and if anybody asks, it's because you're his friends."

"Me, Boss?" Tony said. "I'm not a musician. I just fiddle around at night sometimes."

"You're damn good," Gibbs said. "More than good enough for this op. And that lets us get three people in there. You can get behind the scenes, and McGee and Ziva can mingle in the club and watch for the person chatting up the women."

"What about Sean and Eileen?" Tony asked. "They would make good cover."

"Civilians, DiNozzo."

"Boss, I can't go in completely undercover," Tim said. "My parents moved to Annapolis before I started high school. They've lived there almost 20 years and know lots of people. Plus they're regulars here, and I'm sure they mentioned to people that Tony and I were supposed to join them that weekend. The chances that somebody is going to recognize me are pretty good."

"McGee has a point, Gibbs," Ziva said. "We're going to have to play this one bent."

"Straight, Ziva," Tony said. "Especially if you're Tim's date."

Tim snorted, and Gibbs reached over and head-slapped Tony.

"Boss, my dad's been in the Navy almost 40 years. And while I'm not thrilled with the idea of having them involved, but my mom's not in the target age range, and she'll be there as part of two couples, not girls' night out.I'm sure my dad's training would be enough to keep him and my mom safe. And all they really have to do is sit back. Ziva and I will do the real work."

Gibbs frowned. "I'll call him. He has to be OK with it. Eileen, too. And _only_ because you're right; there are too many coincidences for people to swallow if they're not there." He paused. "If we do this, Sacks will probably be in the van working tech with me. You think you can handle that? He'll be able to hear everything you say."

Tim nodded. "My parents will be careful. They survived an entire day with all of you last weekend before we knew you knew."

"They were very convincing," Ziva said. "I did not think they knew about you."

"I'll plan." Gibbs settled behind his desk. "You follow leads."

Within the hour, Gibbs had called Fornell to return to the bullpen with Sacks. Once all six agents were there, he outlined the op, just as his team had talked about earlier.

" _He's_ going to play the piano?" Tim could hear derision dripping from Sacks' voice. "Wouldn't he be more effective as a waiter?"

 

Tim wanted to say something, but decided ignoring the supercilious agent would be more effective, and less likely to start a fist-fight. The rest of the team seemed to agree, as they just kept their attention on Gibbs, who had raised a single eyebrow.

"McGee's too well known," Gibbs said. "That gives us a good cover, but it means we need to play this as close to the truth as possible. McGee and Ziva going to the club with Sean and Eileen McGee to watch DiNozzo gets three people in there easily. No need to worry about blowing a cover. I just called Sean, and he agreed."

"Besides, Tony's good," Tim said. "It's a solid cover."

"Of course he is," Sacks said, sneering. "DiNozzo can do anything."

Tim clenched his fists again, but Fornell stepped in. "Agent Sacks." He paused until the FBI agent looked at him. "We have an assignment, upstairs. Come on."

As they left, Tim said, "Going to the lab, boss."

Gibbs just nodded. "See if she's got anything from the crime scene that might help us narrow things down."

Tim was still fuming when he reached the lab.

"Timmy? What's wrong?" Abby reached out and hugged him.

In the back of his mind, Tim registered that her calling him Timmy didn't bode well, but he was too angry to care.

"Sacks. That smarmy bastard is going to make one too many cracks about Tony and either he's going to kill him or the rest of us us will. Ziva is sharpening her paperclips now. Don't we have enough to deal with? Tony's sick, my dad's sick, some dirtbag has kidnapped more than 50 women for almost a year for god only knows what reason, and we just figured it out now because until a political appointee's daughter got snatched, nobody bothered to look and see if they were the only ones having these cases. And even then the FBI didn't look for other cases. No, a midshipman who my dad said was a good sailor had to die because they taped her mouth shut while she had bronchitis — because everybody in the world has lung problems this week — and she suffocated. And now even though he hasn't said it out loud, I know Tony's worried that one of these times he's going to get snatched and gagged and won't be able to breathe long enough for us to rescue him because Tony gets himself into more trouble more often than any three other NCIS agents." Tim paused to take a breath and was shocked at the look on Abby's face. "Abbs?"

"Wow. OK, Tim, you need to cut out the caffeine." Her eyes were wide, and she put her hands on his shoulders. "Take a deep breath." She pushed him back into the lab chair. "I'm the only one who's supposed to be able to say that many words in one sentence." She bent down to look him in the eyes. "First, if anybody's going to kill Sacks, it's me. Because I'm one of the only people in the world who..."

"...can kill somebody and leave no forensic evidence." Tim finished her usual line along with her. "It doesn't matter about forensic evidence if we jump him in the middle of the bullpen, which is what was going to happen if I didn't get out of there."

"OK, secondly, you need to leave killing in public to Gibbs, because Bossman can do it just by glaring at him and you can't arrest somebody for scaring Sacks to death. It's not like Bossman's glare leaves eyeprints behind. Although that would be really cool if he could vaporize something when he glares at it so you could see this trail of destruction when he's on the warpath. Then maybe people would learn not to bug him on a bad day, although it sounds like Sacks doesn't have enough sense to do that if he's being so outrageous that even you're ready to kill him. I mean, Tony's always ready to kill him just for existing after the way he acted when Chip framed Tony and tried to use my forensics to convict him. And Ziva, even with her new soft edges from Somalia, she's still the Mossad ninja assassin who can kill a man with a well-placed punch or a few paperclips. And Gibbs, well, Gibbs wants to kill any agents from other agencies except Fornell - that whole enemy of my enemy is my friend thing they have after sharing an ex-wife. But you don't threaten to kill people. Well, OK, sometimes you threaten to kill Tony, but that's just because, you know, he's Tony. So Sacks must really, really need to be killed. Hey, maybe we can get Ducky to arrange an accident in Autopsy!"

This time it was Abby's turn to run out of breath. Tim couldn't help laughing. It wasn't funny, and all the things he was worried about were still there, but somehow Abby always managed to twist things around and make him laugh. Not for the first time, he was glad they had been able to stay friends after they broke up. And maybe, just maybe, they could make it through her finding out about him and Tony and still be friends. Because really, how could he give up a friend who is willing to kill a federal agent so nobody knows you were behind it?

"Thanks, Abbs. I needed that." He turned to her computers. "Now, Gibbs was wondering about trace evidence from the crime scene."


	46. Chapter 45

Wednesday morning was Tim's turn to drive. "What time are you and Gibbs meeting Downing?" he asked as he navigated the morning traffic.

"Noon, I think," Tony said. "We're meeting your parents in your dad's office at 11, since he doesn't have class then, to go over the plan. Gibbs also has to talk to the commandant, get him to give your dad the afternoon off. He wants Sean and Eileen to come by after they meet with Brad tomorrow for your dad's tests. Abby's going to fit your mom out for a video wire, and we can do a test with all the equipment."

"Wait, I thought they weren't going to have earwigs?" Tim risked a look at Tony.

"They won't. But you and Ziva are going to be talking to us and to them. We want them to get accustomed to people having two conversations in front of them so they're comfortable. If they look confused, it could give us away." Tim felt the senior agent's comforting hand on his shoulder. "Don't worry, Tim, they'll be fine. And it will give them something else to think about besides what Brad says."

"I've been trying not to think about that myself," Tim said. "I'm worried enough about what he's going to tell you tomorrow."

"As long as he doesn't put me back on that prednisone or yank me from the field, I'm not going to worry about it," Tony said. "I can live with anything else."

When they got to the office, Gibbs and Ziva were already there. Tim settled behind his computer to continue tracking cell phones. Murchinson's had been a dead end — she had never left the club until her body was dumped in the vacant lot. But with the list of suspects he had come up with for the other kidnappings, he hoped to be able to find a common location, something that might help them track down the remaining women who had gone missing. He tried not to think about the fact their bodies might be all that was left to recover at this point. He plugged in the details and started the trackers. Before the cell records had finished downloading, he heard a cough and looked up to see Sacks and Fornell in the bullpen. Sacks was just moving his hand away from his mouth.

Tim pulled a surgical mask from the box stashed in his desk drawer only to look up and see Tony, Gibbs and Ziva doing the same thing.

"What the hell?" Sacks said.

"Put it on," Gibbs retorted.

"Fornell," Sacks said. "These guys are nuts."

"It's not a discussion, Sacks," Gibbs said. "Either you leave, or you put on a mask and go down to have Ducky check you out."

"It's a cold, Gibbs. They happen this time of year." Sacks glared at the team leader.

"And when they happen around my team, you wear a mask and Ducky checks you out. And you don't come back up here until you get his OK." He walked closer to the young FBI agent and handed him a mask.

When Sacks just looked at it, Tim heard Tony sigh and could see him tie one on out of the corner of his eye.

"What, this is all something to protect DiNozzo?" Sacks sneered, and Tim had to force himself not to get up and wipe that smug smile off his face.

Gibbs looked like he wanted to step into Sacks' personal space and stare him into submission, but then Sacks started coughing again.

"DiNozzo. Go check on A-" He stopped. "Call Abby and take her to get a Caf-Pow and the rest of us some coffee."

"On it, boss." Tim couldn't see Tony's face behind the mask, but he didn't like the tightness around the other man's eyes. He tried to catch Tony's attention, but the senior agent just stalked out of the bullpen.

"Fornell." Gibbs jerked his head toward the elevator, and the FBI agent followed him, leaving Sacks, Tim and Ziva in the bullpen.

"Put the mask on," Ziva said. Her voice was deceptively calm. The last time Tim had heard that tone was right before she had taken out a 250-pound Marine.

"You people at NCIS are a bunch of lunatics, you know that?"

When he still didn't put on the mask, Tim tied one on and got up, walking toward Sacks, fists balled by his side.

"No, McGee," Ziva said. "I will handle this." She grabbed Sacks hand and pressed a thumb into the top until his knees started to buckle. "You will put that mask on now, and I will stop." As he started to slump onto the desk closest to him, the agent lifted a hand for her to stop. Ziva must have released the pressure, though she still held his hand captive, because Sacks straightened up. Jerking his hand away from Ziva, he lifted the mask to put it on and reached back to tie the strings.

"Good decision," she said.

Tim just stood there, not wanting to take his mask off until Ducky cleared Sacks.

"You know, you people are awfully touchy about a simple cold," Sacks said. "I don't know what the hell is going on here, but if DiNozzo has to run away from me because of a cold while Miss Mossad here does the dirty work and you just stand there, McGeek, something's wrong. If DiNozzo's that sick, he shouldn't be working. The only time I've seen anybody that careful about germs was when my grandfather was going through chemotherapy for bone cancer, and he was dying. DiNozzo can't be that sick. He looks fine."

Before Tim could tell Sacks where he could put his assumptions and his adoption of Tony's nickname for him, Ziva stepped in front of Sacks, her face just inches from his. "You would be better served both here and in the field, if you learned not to assume you know all the answers. If you had done that, perhaps we would not be investigating the murder of a midshipman." She leaned closer, and Sacks stepped back. "When you are working with NCIS, you will listen to Gibbs, to Tony, to McGee, and to myself. If you do not feel that you can handle that, I suggest you ask Agent Fornell to reassign you before you end up needing Dr. Mallard's services for something more serious than a simple examination because of your cold."

She stared at Sacks as he took another step back. Before the FBI agent could respond, the elevator dinged and Gibbs and Fornell walked out.

"Agent Sacks," Fornell said. "You will go down to Autopsy for Dr. Mallard to examine you, and you will follow whatever directions he gives you. If you don't, I'm pulling you from this case."

Sacks just stared at his partner. He opened his mouth, probably to argue. Tim braced himself, but Fornell spoke first. "Agent Sacks, this is not a discussion."

"Understood," Sacks said through gritted teeth. He pivoted and headed to Autopsy. He had been in and out of NCIS enough times over the years that Tim wasn't surprised he knew the way.

He hadn't been gone more than a minute when Tony and Abby walked in with four cups of coffee and a Caf-Pow.

Tony looked around. "Can I take this off, Boss?" he said, pointing at the mask.

Gibbs nodded. "Sacks put on a mask, and Ducky's looking at him now."

"Ziva convinced him," Tim said, taking his own mask off so Tony could see his smirk.

"Thanks, Probette," Tony said.

_"A lo davar."_

 

"Come on, DiNozzo, let's hit the road," Gibbs said. "McGee, you get a location on those dirtbags and find who's behind this."

"On it, Boss," Tim said, but the elevator door was already closing on the two men. He checked his computer, which must have dinged during the confrontation with Sacks. There were results all over his screen, though he hadn't heard a thing. "Ziva, Fornell, I have something." He sent the results on his screen to the plasma. "I took the list we had of staff whose employment only lasted through the period when the missing women were abducted at each club and have been tracking the GPS in each of their cell phones during that time." "That's a hell of a lot of data." Fornell frowned, as he and Ziva moved to examine the results of Tim's search.

Tim grinned. "Yeah, but I think I've found a pattern. It looks like some of the potential suspects were actually just part of the regular turnover that happens in a nightclub. But there were six others whose phones could be tracked to one of two locations shortly after each woman was reported missing — one in the country north of Silver Spring and the other about 30 miles away from the clubs in Virginia."

Fornell nodded. "Drop spots. The brains behind this isn't going to have the men come to his main site, so he sets up transfer stations." He turned to face Tim. "McGee, Gibbs told me about DiNozzo's lungs and the reason for the masks, as well as why you need to be extra careful — as Tony's roommate and with your dad sick. Why don't you stay here and see if you can find out who was meeting these guys for each drop while I take Sacks and David to investigate them?"

Tim thought for a second, not wanting to be left out. He thought of Tony and his health, and then he thought of what he might be able to find through the computer while the other agents were driving to the locations. He reminded himself that as much as he liked the field and as much as Gibbs needed him there, he needed Tim's skills at tracking this stuff just as much or he never would have promoted him to a full-time agent. Finally, he nodded. "That's probably the best option," he admitted.

"Besides, I need to have a word with Agent Sacks when Ducky gets done with him." Fornell's smile was mechanical. "I agree with Gibbs, Sacks doesn't need any more ammunition against DiNozzo, which is what he would treat this information as. I'm sure with Agent David along, he'll cooperate."

"Thanks, Fornell," Tim said. "I'll call you if I learn anything more."

Jimmy finished in autopsy a little early that afternoon, so he headed down to the gym to work out. He was on his second circuit of the weight machines when he saw Tony come in and put on boxing gloves. The senior field agent started pummeling a punching bag in the corner. Jimmy looked around, but didn't see McGee anywhere, which surprised him as he had seen the two men come in to work together that morning. Jimmy moved from the tricep press to lat pulldowns, all the while keeping an eye on Tony and feeling his frown deepen at what he saw. The pulldown machine was set up so he could easily see Tony, who was attacking the punching bag like it had already attacked Gibbs and Ziva, and Tony thought he was next. Grunting a little as he powered through the last few reps of his set, Jimmy wondered if McGee and Tony had fought.

After the painting project, he had begun to wonder just what the relationship between the two men was. Something about the look on their faces when they were talking about the bedroom assignments seemed a bit off. He had just filed it away in his mind, but then when they were all eating pizza Saturday, he definitely felt like the odd man out. Not that Tony and McGee had excluded him, but like they had a whole other level of conversation going. And they finished each others thoughts, just like McGee and Abby did. He'd been watching since then, and he was pretty sure they were more than roommates.

As Tony kept pummeling, Jimmy wondered if he should check on the senior agent. He didn't want to intrude if he and McGee were having a fight, but if Tony didn't let up, he was going to do some serious damage to his hands even with the gloves on.

Decision made, he finished his set, grabbed his water bottle and headed for the locker room, being sure to take the path past the punching bags.

"Hey, Tony," he said, stopping by the agent. "How's it going?"

Tony paused and rubbed the sweat off his face with the bottom of his T-shirt. "It will be better when this case is done and Sacks can get his smug ass back to the FBI and out of my hair." He cursed. "Ducky should have banished him for his cold, or Fornell. Hell, Gibbs could head-slap him all the way back to the Bureau. Just get him to stop making those smart-ass cracks about me."

"Do you want me to talk to Dr. Mallard?" Jimmy asked. "If he knew, I'm sure he'd come up with a reason to send Agent Sacks home."

Tony shook his head. "Thanks, Palmer. I'm dealing with it."

Jimmy raised an eyebrow. "By beating your hands to a pulp?"

Tony looked down at his hands. "I've got the gloves on."

"You started beating that punching bag as I was starting my second time through the circut." Jimmy said. "At least let me take a look at them."

"Palmer, I'm fine. If it will make you happy, I'll do some shadow boxing instead. No bag." He stripped off the boxing gloves, revealing hands that were reddened, but so far unbruised.

Jimmy nodded, knowing that was the best he was going to get. He decided to move to plan B instead. Once in the locker room, he showered and dressed quickly, then headed upstairs. Fortunately, Agent Gibbs was the only person in the bullpen.

Jimmy walked over to his desk.

"Agent Gibbs?" He tried not to let his voice shake, but the team leader made him nervous.

"Yeah, Palmer?" Gibbs didn't even look up from the paperwork on his desk.

"It's about Tony."

"DiNozzo?"

"He's down in the gym, and he's been going at it with the punching bag. He looks really mad, and I thought he and McGee had just had a fight but he said-" Jimmy realized what he'd said and stopped, squeezing his eyes shut. Tony and McGee were going to kill him. First he'd told Gibbs about Tony, then he'd outed them to the creator of Rule 12. Maybe he could hide in one of the drawers in Autopsy and pretend to be a John Doe.

When he didn't hear anything or feel Gibbs' hand smacking the back of his head, he opened one eye. Gibbs was looking at him, but he didn't look mad.

"Palmer, what did DiNozzo say?" Gibbs actually sounded... patient? Jimmy wished it were still light outside so he could look out the windows to see if the sky had fallen and he'd missed it down in Autopsy because they had no windows.

"He... He was mad at Agent Sacks." Jimmy winced as he stammered like a kid.

Gibbs just nodded. "Don't blame him. Sacks is an idiot. Been jabbing at DiNozzo since the case started. Gave him a hard time about wearing a mask today."

"Oh, and that would explain it. Tony hates thinking about what he can't do because of his lungs. McGee warned me Saturday to be careful-" Jimmy realized he'd done it again. Tony and McGee were really going to kill him.

"Palmer, it's OK. I know about them. Known for a while."

"Really?"

Gibbs nodded. "They know you know?"

Jimmy shook his head. "No. I figured it out, but I could tell Saturday that they hadn't said anything to anybody, so I wasn't sure I should."

"You got a problem with it?"

"No. No!" Jimmy thought for a second. "It's... I always figured McGee and Abby would get back together at some point, but once I started looking at him and Tony... They've got something that works for both of them. I don't know why, but they just... work."

Gibbs smiled. "You should tell them you know. I stopped by Sunday. Ziva went by Monday. They need to know we're on their six."

Jimmy nodded. "I will." He got up and turned to walk away, then turned back. "Agent Gibbs? Thanks."

"Just Gibbs, Palmer."

"OK... Gibbs. You'll keep an eye on Tony?"

Gibbs just held up one finger and pulled out his cell, punching a number.

"McGee. Tony's down in the gym pretending one of the punching bags is that idiot Sacks. Get him out of here. Make him relax. Tell Abby I'm sending you home."

He hung up before waiting for a response.

"Thanks, Gibbs," Palmer said, smiling.

"No, thank you for telling me, Palmer. Now get out of here."

Jimmy just nodded and left.

As he walked out, he thought about how to let Tony and McGee know not only that he knew, but also that he was OK with them. As he drove home, a store window caught his eye. It was closed, so he hunted for a store that would have the same thing. He stopped, made a quick purchase, and headed for the agents' house. He only saw one car when he got there, so he knew he'd beaten them. Jimmy wrote a quick note and put it on top of the box, got out and hung it on the doorknob in a plastic bag, then drove off.


	47. Chapter 46

Tony poured coffee into a travel mug the next morning.

"Tim! Coffee's ready." He inhaled the aroma as he heard Tim clatter down the stairs. "Autopsy Gremlin's got good taste in coffee. This stuff smells great."

Tim snagged one of the blueberry muffins from the box Palmer had left for them. "Who would have figured Palmer would be the next one to find out?"

Tony poured another mug of coffee and handed it to him. "Ducky has to know. No way Palmer figures it out before him."

"I'm just surprised he told us. Even if he didn't do it to our face." Tim sniffed the coffee and smiled, then drank.

"Gibbs." Tony had been thinking about it since they had gotten home to find the breakfast gift waiting for them. "Palmer saw me in the gym. Gibbs called you to get me out of there. You know Palmer must have told Gibbs what I was doing. He probably blurted something out and tried to backtrack, and Gibbs told him to just tell us."

Tim cocked his head as if the physical action was jump-starting the McBrain. After a few seconds, he said, "That sounds like Palmer. Gibbs always has him stumbling over his words. Wonder how he figured it out?"

"Does it matter?" Tony crammed the rest of a muffin in his mouth, a few crumbs spilling down his shirt.

Tim snorted and brushed away the crumbs from Tony's chest. "Would it really have hurt you to take two bites instead of trying to prove you can stick more than just your foot in there?" He ducked as Tony reached over to head-slap him. "No, it doesn't matter. But if Ducky doesn't know, you know Palmer's going to spill the beans at some point."

Tony just nodded as he chewed, trying to finish so he could tell Tim-

"Don't worry, I'll let Palmer know we appreciate breakfast and his note, and warn him not to let Sacks know. I'm pretty sure we're just on the right side of the nepotism rules, but I don't want to put that to the test. And Sacks is so by-the-book, he'd be the first to make a fuss. Of course, since Palmer saw you beating up the defenseless punching bag last night, he's probably already figured that out."

Tony rolled his eyes and swallowed. "Should I be worried that you can read my mind now?"

"After learning how to anticipate Gibbs, figuring you out is easy. Just don't ask me to read Abby's."

Tony snorted. "If _you_ can't read her mind, nobody can. You're the only one who can even understand her most of the time."

"True." Tim looked at the clock. "You're going to be late for your appointment with Brad if you don't get going."

"Yeah, yeah. On my way, McTimex. I'll call when I'm done at Bethesda and fill you in." He could feel the tension building in his shoulders already, wondering what Brad would say.

"Hey," Tim said, putting a hand on his shoulder. "It's going to be OK. Brad will have a better treatment for you to try, and Gibbs will have scared Sacks into submission by the time you make it back to the Navy Yard."

Tony took a deep breath. "OK. Let's plan to go running after work." He refused to believe Brad would keep him from running. It just wasn't going to happen. And if he acted like it wouldn't, planned his day like it wouldn't, maybe the universe would listen to him for once and Brad would have good news for him. He picked up his travel mug, kissed Tim and headed out.

This was his first time driving to Bethesda from their new home. The traffic wasn't bad, but he thought with a little exploration, he could take a couple of back roads and cut the time down. Even so, he reached Brad's office about 15 minutes early, but the doctor was already there.

"You're early today, Tony. Gibbs got you on a hot case?" Brad looked up from his seat behind the desk and motioned the agent in.

"Hot case, but I'm early because I didn't know how long it would take to get here from the new place," he said, dropping into a chair. "Not as long as I thought, obviously."

"You guys all moved in?"

"Moved in. Moved out, too. At least out of the closet."

At Brad's surprised look, he explained. "Gibbs, Ziva, and Palmer all told us they know."

"They're OK with it?"

Tony nodded. "Gibbs actually thinks we're good for each other. I think he and Tim's dad are bonding."

Brad laughed. "I've never met a family quite as unorthodox as yours, but it seems to work."

"So far." Tony thought of Gibbs' words. "Now as long as Abby gets the hint."

"Abby?" Brad paused, furrowing his brow. "Oh, your forensic scientist, the goth."

"And Tim's old girlfriend. Gibbs and Ziva think she wants him back." Tony groaned. "Why is my life never simple?"

"Says the man who survived a medieval disease because his boss ordered him not to die." Brad snorted. "You'd be bored stiff with a simple life."

"Good point." Tony took a deep breath. "OK, Brad, spit it out. What's the word?"

"First, we'll add some more tests to the ones we do every week," Brad said. "The ones I ran last time gave me a sense of how the steroids were affecting your lungs, but I want to expand on that. I also want a better idea of how being on for a week and off for a week worked." He frowned. "To be honest, Tony, I'm flying a little blind here. You're coming to me at a much earlier point than most of the sailors and Marines I work with, so a lot of the usual risk/reward tradeoffs don't apply to you. I don't want to handicap you in the field with side effects from the treatment, but I don't want to hold back so much that you end up losing your field clearance anyway."

Tony nodded. "I don't want that either. But if you'd kept me on that stupid prednisone, it wouldn't have mattered. If I hadn't driven Tim to kill me, Ziva or Gibbs would have. I was grumpier than Gibbs has ever been."

"I saw him during the plague. I think I get it."

"Oh no, he's been much worse. That was pissed Gibbs. Grumpy Gibbs is a whole different story. When I had the plague, he had a solid lead to investigate, and he had a goal — to find an antidote for the plague before it killed me. Even though it turned out there wasn't one to be found. But the year before that, a terrorist infiltrated NCIS, and Gibbs didn't know who he was or how to find out who he was and was grumpier than a bear with a sore tooth. The day McGee figured out who Ari was, I suggested Gibbs needed to watch _Moby Dick._ I thought he was going to pitch me off the stairs."

"Ari?"

"That was his name. He's the bastard who killed Kate. Turns out he was Ziva's half brother."

Brad massaged his temples. "Did I say unorthodox? You left unorthodox three exits back."

"You don't really think any normal people could handle working for Gibbs, do you? Before me, only one agent had ever lasted more than a few months with Gibbs, and that was Stan Burley. He stuck it out for five years before he decided he didn't want to spend as much money on antacids as he did on food. I've been with the Boss for nine years, Tim for six and Ziva for five. And none of us is going anywhere." Tony frowned. "Well, as long as Tim and I don't screw things up and get him sent to CyberCrimes." At Brad's look of confusion, he explained Gibbs' ultimatum. "We'd still rather be together than work together if we have to choose, but we'd rather not have it come to that." He sighed. "Of course we won't have to worry about that if I get my field status yanked."

"Now I know why Gibbs head-slaps you," Brad said. "I'm not going to let you lose your field status." He pulled a paper from out of a file. "This is the information on a breathing therapy I want you to do. It's going to be some pretty intense work — it's not going to feel good, and you might finish some sessions as wiped out as if you had just finished chasing a suspect, so you might be better off scheduling it for later in the day. I've already talked with a corpsman who's trained in this type of work, and he knows the situation. The good news is he splits his time among here, Anacostia, and the Navy Yard, so you can schedule your sessions for the two days a week he's at the Navy Yard. If Gibbs has any questions, he can call me. Tim, too."

"Thanks, Brad. And thanks from both of us for taking Sean on as a patient. Tim's still worried about him, but I think the whole family feels more confident knowing you're the one taking care of him. Me, too."

Brad smiled. "Thanks, Tony. I'll do my best."

"I know." He stood. "Come on, let's get these tests over with so I can get back to chasing dirtbags."

He finished the tests and drove back to the Navy Yard, calling Tim to let him know how things went on the way. After their discussion earlier that morning, he was curious if Ducky knew about them. He decided the new breathing therapy was as good a reason as any to stop by Autopsy and see the medical examiner, maybe drop a few hints and see if he picked up on them.

"Ahh, Anthony. To what do I owe the honor?" Ducky asked as he walked in.

"Brad's got me seeing a corpsman for some breathing therapy twice a week, but those are days the guy is stationed here at the Yard, so at least I'm not trekking to Bethesda even more. I wanted to show you the information he gave me, figured you should stick a copy in my file."

Tony boosted himself up on one of the empty tables. "I think Tim's just glad he didn't put me back on the prednisone. I was not fun to live with that week."

Ducky nodded. "I rather wondered about that." As his kettle whistled, he turned to shut off the hot plate. "Would you like a cup of tea?"

"I think I can spare some time," Tony said. "Tim said Sacks was in the bullpen, mask in place, but I'd rather not deal with him. I'll just let Tim know I'm back in case Gibbs is looking for me." He punched in _Back. W/Ducky & tea. Think he knows - confirming_ and sent the text.

He slid off the table and wheeled a chair over to the metal table Ducky was using for his tea supplies. He waited for the medical examiner to pour a cup.

"Things are working out in your new home?" Ducky asked after a sip of the steaming Earl Gray.

"Better than I thought, actually," Tony said. "I'd stayed at Tim's enough before that we were kind of used to sharing space, but it's different living together than one of us staying over." He paused and looked at the older man.

Ducky chuckled. "You're not very subtle, my dear boy. But since you are not inclined to ask, yes, I had figured out that you and Timothy have developed a deeper relationship. I rather think it has done you both good."

Tony smiled, thinking of Tim. "Thanks, Ducky. You know, you're the first one who hasn't come by the house to tell us you know. Gibbs stopped by with Chinese on Sunday and an offer to help us move Tim's furniture into our bedroom. Ziva brought pizza by Monday, and Palmer left coffee and muffins, along with a note, on the doorknob last night."

Ducky held out his tea cup. "Perhaps I should invite Timothy down to join us for tea, since sharing food along with the news seems to be rather the order of the day. Of course, you came to me."

"After Ziva came by Monday, we talked it over and decided we weren't going to actively hide anymore. Vance and Abby are the only ones who either don't know yet or haven't told us they know." He looked at his phone as it beeped. _Sacks on rampage - stay put. Who's next, Vance or Abby?_

 

Tony sighed. "Tim says Sacks is on a tear. Mind if I hide out here for a while?"

"Not at all. It will give me a chance to satisfy my curiosity. However did you and Timothy manage to keep this a secret? I don't think any of us realized you were together until recently."

Before Tony could answer, Gibbs walked in.

"Hey, Boss," Tony said. "Tim told me Sacks was pissed, so I figured I'd stay out of firing range until he simmers down."

Gibbs nodded. "Good thinking. Fornell is up with Vance, but he'll be back soon. He better get Sacks under control."

"Jethro, just what is Agent Sacks thinking? I've never known anybody not to back down when you turn your considerable ire upon them."

Gibbs glared. "Sacks doesn't seem to know how to take a hint. Almost ready to call in Leon."

Tony set his tea cup down. "The director? Great. Like having Sacks on my case isn't bad enough."

"Vance will be more than happy to have an excuse to take the FBI down a peg. He's not going to give you a hard time. About anything. He knows better." Gibbs said. "Just be careful. Sacks finds out about you and McGee, I might have to let Ziva kill him."

"I didn't realize Agent Sacks was homophobic," Ducky said.

"Don't think he is, Duck. Definitely DiNozzo-phobic though. Don't understand, but don't want him making trouble. Vance can look the other way on the nepotism regs if he doesn't officially know about DiNozzo and McGee dating. Sacks starts mouthing off at the Hoover building, and Vance has a lot fewer options. Not letting an FBI agent with a grudge break up my best team because he files a complaint, and Vance ends up with the wrong government HR flunky making a ruling about whether two of the best agents in the agency can keep their heads in the game if they're in the field together."

Tony finished his tea and headed upstairs, tying his mask on as he went. He came around the back way, hoping to sneak in the bullpen. Instead, he could hear Sacks and Fornell at the bottom of the stairs.

"Sacks, you need to stop mouthing off. This is a joint case, and if you can't work with them, I'm taking you off it," Fornell said. "This isn't your first time with NCIS. They're not your typical ARMFED. Stop expecting them to be and stop pissing Gibbs off, and everything will be fine."

"OK, Fornell. I'll ease off. I don't want to give David an excuse to kill me. She's got this thing for DiNozzo, jumps on me if she even thinks I've said anything about him she doesn't like. It's kind of creepy. But not as creepy as the freaky lab goth. You ever see her and McGee together? That has to be the oddest couple I've ever seen..."

Fornell snorted. "In comparison to them, David and DiNozzo look pretty normal."

Tony smacked his head lightly against the wall and decided to stop this conversation before Sacks said something about Abby that would force Tony to hurt him.

"Toby, Toby," he admonished as he walked up. "Are you really sure you want to go there? I mean, you did marry Gibbs' ex-wife."

"DiNozzo," Fornell said. "Agent Sacks here was just telling me what a pleasure it was to work with NCIS."

Tony grinned, knowing they couldn't see it behind the mask. "Glad to hear it, Sacks. Now if you'll excuse me, I've got some work to do. I'm sure McBrain and Gibbs have all the angles figured out for tomorrow night, so I need to find out what's going on before the McGees show up."

He sauntered off to the bullpen, where he joined Ziva in tracking down known associates of the men they suspected were involved with the earlier kidnappings, while Tim continued trying to trace cell phone signals. Gibbs had exiled Fornell and Sacks to the conference room again to go through all the earlier kidnappings for clues. The boxes of more than 50 cases from six different local LEOs filled the table and half the back corner of the room.

A few hours later, Abby and Palmer walked into the bullpen with sandwiches from the deli near the Navy Yard. They dropped them on Tony's desk. "Come on, guys," Palmer said. "Lunch is on us. You guys deserve a treat after dealing with Sacks all week. Dr. Mallard was meeting Dr. Hampton for lunch, but we have food for the rest of us."

"You, too, Gibbs," Abby said, motioning for the team leader to join them. "Tim, we picked up a couple of sandwiches for your parents, too."

"Thanks, Abbs," Tim said, looking at his watch. "They should be here soon." As soon as he said it, his phone rang.

When he got off the phone, he wheeled his chair over to Tony's desk. "They're here. Security is bringing them up."

Abby handed him a sandwich. The six team members crowded around Tony's desk and began talking about the upcoming op.

"Tony, I didn't realized you still played piano," Abby said. "I thought you only took lessons as a kid because your mother made you."

Tony shrugged. "She did. They stuck after a while. I just like to play around at night on the keyboard, nothing fancy."

"Don't listen to him," Tim said. "He's really good. I'd rather listen to him than my jazz recordings."

"Not that you're biased or anything," Tony retorted.

"Hey, at least the first time you guys host a party, you'll have entertainment all taken care of," Palmer said.

"I would love to hear you play," Ziva said. "My training was all in classical pieces. I have learned that listening to jazz and blues is quite a different experience."

"I'm no performer," Tony said. "This is just for the op. We'll have you guys over sometime, but the entertainment will probably be movies."

The McGees were escorted to the bullpen just then. Gibbs got up and pulled two chairs over to Tim's desk for them, and Abby handed them sandwiches as everybody exchanged greetings.

"We'll get to the wires after lunch," Abby said. "I have everything right here." She tapped a bag she had slung over the back of her chair.

Gibbs moved his chair to sit with the McGees, and Tony smiled as the group divided itself between the two desks. "I guess this is the kids' table," he said.

Everybody but Ziva started laughing. "I do not understand."

"At big family gatherings, the whole family doesn't always fit at one table," Abby said. "Mine never did, not with all my aunts and uncles and cousins. So they would set up a table in another room for the kids to sit at."

"Tim always hated the kids' table," Eileen said. "He said it was more fun to talk to the adults."

"That sounds like our McGenius," Tony said, reaching over and ruffling his hair.

"I didn't mind the games after dinner," Tim said. "I just liked talking with the adults better than Sarah and my cousins, because they were all girls."

Tony smirked, but held back on the comments that came to mind. He'd just give Tim a hard time at home that night.

"What kind of games?" Ziva asked.

"We used to play board games once the table was cleared," Tim said. "Trivial Pursuit, Clue, Sorry, Mousetrap. When I got older, we played Scrabble."

"No Monopoly?" Palmer said. "That was my favorite."

"Took too long," Tim said. "We played Perfection sometimes, but the buzzer always scared Sarah."

"Oh, she's so going to kill you when I tell her you told us all that," Abby said. "My favorite game was Twister."

"Of course." Tim, Tony and Palmer all spoke at once. Ziva, once again, looked confused.

"I do not know these games," she said.

"We should do a game night," Palmer said.

"Oh, that would rock," Abby said. "Timmy, Tony, you guys could host it. If we all bring some food and the games we have, it wouldn't be any trouble."

Tony looked at Tim, who shrugged. "Sure. I've got Monopoly somewhere. That was the only game my father ever approved of."

"I've got Clue and Scrabble, I think," Tim said.

"We've got a few you can borrow," Sean called over. "No Twister, though."

"Oh, I have Twister," Abby said. "Scruples, too."

Tony waggled his eyebrows. "With this bunch of unscrupulous characters? We'd be better off playing Truth or Dare."

"No," Tim said. "Not a chance."

"I'm with McGee on this one," Palmer said. "I don't trust Tony or Abby with either Truth or Dare."

Thinking it over, Tony decided Truth or Dare probably wasn't a good option. Once Abby figured them out, god only knew what she would dare him and Tim to do.

"OK, so game night it is," Tony said. "Next free night."

"Which isn't going to be tomorrow," Gibbs said. "If you're lucky, you might get Saturday night."

"I think it's time for me to head back down to Autopsy," Palmer said, crumpling his sandwich wrapper and tossing it in the trash.

Within a few minutes, they had cleaned up from lunch, and Abby had spread her kit on the end of Gibbs' desk. She passed eyeglasses to the three agents, then pulled out a necklace with a big pendant of multicolored glass and metal.

"Mrs. McGee, this necklace has a little video transmitter in the pendant," she said. "It will send a video feed back to the tech van, where Gibbs and an FBI agent will be monitoring everything." She pointed to the spy glasses, and Tony put his on.

"We'll have these," he said. "They also have video feeds to the van. We'll also have earwigs, which means Gibbs, Tim, Ziva, and I will be able to communicate with one another."

Tim picked up the explanation. "Our team's going to be exchanging information. Mom and Dad, you're not going to be in the loop for the audio, so there'll be times when what we say isn't going to make sense to you."

"I've seen some surveillance operations from the background," Sean said. "I have an idea of what the conversation will be like."

Gibbs nodded. "Three goals. Get video of as much as possible. Might spot the dirtbag that way. Also, watch and listen for clues. Finally, prevent another abduction." He pointed at the necklace. "This will help with video. You're also going to help by giving us a cover. Keep the conversation normal. Just your son and a friend coming to watch his roommate perform. That way it's OK if somebody recognizes McGee. Anything starts happening though, duck and cover."

"We understand, Gibbs," Sean said. "Now, you and Tony mentioned something about us practicing?"

Tony nodded. "It takes practice to not react to the earwig audio so we don't tip people off. You and Eileen don't need to worry about that, but you do need to be comfortable with the way the conversation is going to go and not get thrown when Tim and Ziva start feeding information to the team or answering our questions as though it's part of the conversation you're having at the table."

"We'll use Gibbs' desk as our table," Tim said. "Abby and Gibbs will sit around the corner like they're working tech in the van. Tony will pretend he's playing the piano at his desk."

They set up as planned, earwigs and video equipment in place.

Tony pretended to start playing the piano. "We've got quite a crowd tonight," he said, winking at Ziva. He pulled out his lounge lizard mask and started flirting with the imaginary audience. "I'm Tony, and I'll be breaking your heart with my music tonight. Yes, even you, you lovely ladies in the corner."

"Zee, that looks like your friend Rachel in the corner there. Was tonight her sister's birthday party?" Tim said, getting into his role.

"The six women by the fireplace? No, I do not think so."

 _"Good work. Watch for anybody who approaches them,"_ Gibbs said. _"McGee, can your mother move so her camera is focused on them?"_

"Mom, why don't you trade places with me so you can sit next to Dad," Tim said, shifting out of his seat.

"OK, Tim." Eileen sounded confused, but she didn't ask or hesitate as she changed seats. "Oh, this is a much better view of the stage, too."

"Dad, why don't we go get drinks," Tim said.

"A gin and tonic for me," Eileen said.

"My usual please," Ziva added.

Tim got up and led the way to Ziva's desk, the "bar."

"Two gin and tonics, two club sodas with lime," he said, then turned slightly as though he was scanning the room.

_"McGee, go back. Who's that standing behind the table of women?"_

"Dad, you were right, this is a nice place," Tim said. "They treat the regulars well, too. The waiter over there seemed to know you when he took our orders."

"Yes. Yes, Will is a good guy. He just started a couple of months ago, but he always remembers our favorites off the menu." Sean mimed taking two of the "drinks" Tim handed him and they walked back. Tim looped past Tony's "piano" and by his desk before leading the way back to their "table."

 _"Good work, McGee. Abby's isolating and running facial recognition now,"_ Gibbs said. _"OK, rehearsal over."_ He and Abby returned to the bullpen.

Tony pulled his earwig out and took off the glasses, watching as Tim and Ziva did the same so Abby could pack them up. "Good work, Sean and Eileen," he said. "You did a pretty good job of running with things."

"I didn't realized we had started when Tim asked me to switch seats," Eileen said. "But then when I thought about what you had said, and then what Tim said to Ziva, I figured it out. After that, it was easier to follow."

"Did good, Sean," Gibbs said. "Picked right up on McGee's cue about the waiter."

"After Tony and Tim's comments, I figured that anything club-related was probably part of the op," Sean said, leaning against Tim's desk. "It took me a second to figure out what to say, but I knew Tim was trying to flag something about the waiter. Well, the imaginary waiter."

Ziva nodded. "It will not be as difficult tomorrow because we will actually be seeing this take place. It is perhaps more challenging to stroll with the punches when you cannot see what is going on."

"Roll, Ziva," Tony said. "But you're right, being in the actual nightclub will help."

"DiNozzo's right," Gibbs said. "This was practice. Tomorrow night's the real test. We'll meet at your house at 6."

Sean nodded. "We'll be ready."

He and Eileen turned to leave, Eileen hugging first Tim, then Tony as they left. For once, Tony felt his ears flame instead of watching Tim's change color. He'd never understood why his friends got embarrassed when their parents showed affection in public. He would have given anything for his mom to be alive to embarrass him, or his father to care enough to show affection. But getting hugged at work? He got it now. It was nice, and he was glad Eileen thought of him like that since he wasn't planning on going anywhere. But it was definitely embarrassing.


	48. Chapter 47

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> These chapters just get longer and longer. This is the biggest one yet, but it has some some stuff I think a lot of you have been waiting for. ;) After this, just three chapters to go! Enjoy!

Friday passed too quickly as the team, Fornell, and Sacks tried to run down leads. Tim felt like his fingers were overheating almost as fast as his computer as he ran trace after trace on cell numbers trying to pin down anybody who had been part of all of the drops. With more than four dozen dates to check in two different locations, he contemplated asking Gibbs if he could tap into MTAC to run the searches.

"Hey, Tim, take a break."

He looked up to see Tony sitting on the edge of his desk, two cups of coffee in hand. The senior agent offered one to him. "One latte with two extra shots of espresso. I figured you needed the kick."

Tim smiled as he took the cup and sipped. "Thanks, Tony. I just wish I could do this more quickly. I know tonight's plan will probably work, but I'm not sure..." His voice trailed off.

"That you want your parents in the line of fire?"

Tim nodded. "Yeah. They did great yesterday, and my dad's been under fire before — kind of goes with the territory, but not since I was a kid. And you don't really get it then. You just hate that he's at sea, not at home. You don't think about what he's doing." He rubbed the back of his neck. "And he's sick, and I know it has to be bad. So if I can find the key to this and not have to bring them into it, I want to. I'm just not fast enough."

Tony set down his coffee and dropped to a crouch, looking up at Tim and resting his hands on the other man's knees. "Hey. You're doing this a million times faster than anybody else could. I worked a serial case back in Philly, and we took two weeks longer than this to make half as much progress. Some of that is because cell phones and GPS make it easier, but you still have to know how to pull the pieces together to tell a story. And you do that better and faster than anybody I know. It's like... You know how sometimes Gibbs and I get these insights, where it just clicks what must have happened? And then we know where we're going, and we can find the proof to back it up?"

Tim nodded. "Gibbs' gut. That's instinct. All I have are lots of McFacts." He could hear the bitterness in his own voice.

Tony must have as well, because he rose up slightly so he could reach back and gently head-slap him. "Stop knocking yourself, Tim. You do the same thing, just in a different way. I don't know anybody who can take less and build it up fact by fact to find a solution. Sure, I can do it with people. I know what makes them tick. But in a case like this, where we don't know who we're dealing with or even what they're doing, there are no people to read. But you can take all these hundreds of pieces of information and put them together and just seem to know how to kick the computer to give us the answers we need. Answers that have to come before we can find the people, so then I can start getting in their heads."

Tim looked down, fixing his eyes on Tony. "Thanks. I needed that." He hesitated. "I know I'm not the computer geek, or at least not _just_ the computer geek. And I know we need my geekiness. It's just sometimes I forget that the geekiness can be as important as the gunfighting."

"That's my McGenius," Tony said, pushing his hands into his thighs and standing, knees popping. "Come on, take a break for a bit. Go see Abby or something."

"Yeah, about Abby..."

Tony crossed his arms and leaned back against the cubicle divider. "Has our goth mistress figured it out?"

Tim shook his head. "You'd think Mom hugging you yesterday would have tipped her off, but she was packing up the gear. And I don't think she noticed, because she would have announced it to the whole Navy Yard. But I really think I need to say something to her. At this point everybody else, except maybe Vance, knows. She'll be really upset if she thinks we're deliberately keeping this from her."

Tony nodded. "And something Gibbs said yesterday made me think Vance knows, or at least suspects. I think he might be deliberately looking the other way so he has plausible deniability if someone makes a fuss about us working on the same team. It's one thing to say he's going to review it if somebody files a complaint. It's another to say he knew and didn't do anything about it if the bureaucrats rule against us staying on the team together. Not exactly a good thing career-wise for him. I'd be a little ticked he's in cover-your-ass mode, but if he's OK enough to look the other way unless forced, I'd rather him in charge of the agency than SecNav replacing him with somebody who would split us up without a second thought."

"Definitely time for me to clue Abby in then," Tim said. "I'll go down now and while I'm there, I'll see if she's got anything off the evidence Fornell and Ziva brought back from the drop sites yesterday that might help us narrow things down. Can you keep an eye on my computer? I've got all the searches cued up, I just can't run anymore until some of the ones I have going finish."

Tony grinned at Tim's intentional slight of Sacks and his role in gathering evidence from the drop sites. "When they ping, I'll start the next one," Tony promised. "And Tim? Good luck."

"Thanks."

With that, he headed down to the lab, a trip he'd made a million times in his years at NCIS. The only time he had felt this much reluctance, though, was after he'd killed Benedict and he went down to see if Abby had been able to tell if he or the bent cop had fired the kill shot.

He walked in to find Abby bent over Major Mass Spec's results screen.

"What ya got, Abbs?" he asked.

"Timmy," she said. "You don't do a good Gibbs. You're not abrupt enough."

"I did sneak up on you, though," he said.

"True," she admitted. "Has he been giving you sneaky lessons? No, wait. It must be living with Tony. His undercover skills are rubbing off on you."

Tim snorted. Could he have asked for a better lead in? "Yeah, Abbs, about that."

But before he could say anything, two different computers started dinging.

"Whoa!" she said as she stretched her head one way as her legs walked the other, trying to check screens on different sides of the room at once.

"A lead?" Tim asked, walking over to the workstation in the middle of the room to check the DNA results that had popped up. "Abbs, we've got a hit on a... Oh, this is not good."

"Timmy?"

He pulled out his cell and pressed the speed dial for Gibbs.

"Boss? Get down to the lab. Bring Ziva and get Tony on the web cam. I think I know what we're investigating, and who."

"McGee! What's going on?"

"Abbs, look." He pointed at the rap sheet for Matthew Ringpolle.

She started reading, and the more she read, the paler her already fair skin got. "You're right, this is not good." She dashed back to the screen where Major Mass Spec's results were waiting. "I'm pulling up the USGS soils database. There has to be a way to narrow this down."

"Narrow what down?" Gibbs asked as he walked in, Ziva on his heels.

"Yeah, fill us in McFrantic, Abbs," came Tony's voice from the webcam.

Tim sent Ringpolle's rap sheet to the plasma. "His DNA was found at the scene of one of the drop sites. Just a hair snagged on a rough board in the doorframe of the place north of Silver Spring. He was in prison in Mississippi until six months ago when he finished his term for running a human sex trafficking ring."

"Well, shit." Tony's voice was loud in the room. Ziva was cursing softly in Hebrew, and Gibbs stared at the plasma as if he could incinerate Ringpolle just by glaring at his mug shot.

"Gibbs! Gibbs! Gibbs!" Abby was practically bouncing in the corner. "I think I might know where he is! There was an odd mix of clay and sandy soils at both scenes, just traces. The sand was pressed into the clay, like a car had gotten its treads clogged with clay, then rolled over sand. I cross-referenced the soil types and -"

"Abbs. Bottom line?"

She stuck out her lower lip. "You're no fun, Gibbs. Bottom line is that there are only a few ways a car could have picked up the clay first, then the sand, and made it to both crime scenes. Those soil types usually aren't found near each other, and to get both of them in the same order means there's a good chance they're near Ringpolle's home base. If we assume that home base is between the two drop sites, there are only a handful of possibilities."

Tim started nodding. "And by limiting it to a couple of locations and a name, I can probably use the cell calls we've been tracking to narrow it down to just one."

"How long?"

Tim frowned. "Five, maybe six hours? It will only take a few minutes to set the search parameters, but pulling the information will take longer."

Gibbs looked at his watch. "We won't get it before we need to head to Annapolis." He frowned. "Abbs, you stay here and keep an eye on the searches for McGee. I'll talk to Vance and Fornell, see if we can get a couple of teams ready to head out once Abby has results. Balboa's team is good, and I'm sure Fornell can come up with one. They can focus on getting this bastard. We need to figure out who killed Murchinson."

The team headed out, leaving Abby to continue processing the evidence and to find more links between Ringpolle and the crimes.

Upstairs, Tim set the searches to run on his computer, while Tony and Gibbs headed to Vance's office to brief him.

"David, find Fornell and Sacks and fill them in," Gibbs said as he walked out of the bullpen. "Then check to make sure we have all the gear loaded for tonight."

Before Tim knew it, they were on the road to Annapolis. He and Tony drove the surveillance van, while Gibbs and Ziva followed in one sedan, Fornell and Sacks in another.

Tim and Tony led the way since they were meeting the McGees at their house, but he let Tony drive, so Gibbs didn't blow a fuse. Not that Tony was nearly as crazy behind the wheel as either Gibbs or Ziva, but he was much less cautious than Tim.

 

****

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Later as they waited for somebody to seat them, Ziva slowly scanned the room, giving Gibbs a look at the layout.

_"Good work, David. McGee, focus on faces. Give us long enough to isolate and freeze frame for facial recognition."_

"Thank you for inviting me along, Eileen," Ziva said. "I was excited when Tim told me that Tony was going to be performing tonight."

"Not at all, Ziva. It's a pleasure to have you." Eileen reached up as if she was going to fiddle with her necklace, then dropped her hand.

"McGee, party of four?" said the host. "If you will follow me?"

Ziva allowed her eyes to widen in appreciation of the deep blues and greens on the walls. Dark wood and brown leather furniture anchored the room, while subdued lighting in blown glass and bronze walls sconces cast patterns on the abstract swirls in the carpeting. The room was dim enough to feel like a club, but not at all dark or gloomy. As they were seated at a table, Ziva motioned for Eileen to go ahead of her. The seat would give the pendantcam the best view of the room. With McGee sitting across from her, they could cover most of the room without obviously turning their heads. Only Sean had a limited view.

"See anybody you know?" McGee asked his parents.

Before either one could answer, the server came over to take their drink orders. He was about McGee's age, but shorter and stockier, with blond hair and light-colored eyes.

_"Sacks. Isolate and freeze frame."_

"Evening, Mr. and Mrs. McGee," he said. "How are you tonight?"

"Fine, thanks," Sean said. "Looking forward to seeing the show."

"You're in for a treat," he said. "I heard this guy, Tony, practicing earlier. He's good. I'm surprised we haven't booked him before."

_"Gibbs, his name's John Collins. Started here two months ago, right around the time the manager did."_

_"Tony. Keep an eye on him. You too, David, McGee."_

"He is good," Tim said. "Tony's my roommate. When he told me he'd gotten this gig, Ziva and I figured we'd come up and treat my parents to a night out."

"Good to know," Collins said.

Ziva smiled as they all ordered the same thing as they had during the practice run the day before.

"I'll be right back with those drinks."

As he turned to leave, Ziva said, "It is crowded already. I did not expect things to start jumping this early."

"Hopping, Ziva," Tim said.

_"Thanks for keeping our ninja's English on track, McDictionary. I'm about to take the stage."_

Ziva bit the inside of her lip to keep from laughing. "Thank you, Tim. Sean, Tim said you come here a lot. Are there many regulars here?"

Sean shifted his chair more toward Ziva so he could turn slightly and scan the room. She let out an invisible sigh of relief that he was able to make it look like he was just moving to get a better view of the stage.

"The Wilsons are sitting over by the fireplace," he said. "Jane Wilson teaches in the engineering department at the Academy and plays basketball with Eileen." Ziva looked over, holding her gaze long enough for Sacks to get a good shot.

"She's got a mean three-pointer, but I can usually shut her down in the paint," Eileen said.

"Mom, Tony's the only person you've not been able to get the best of under the basket," Tim said.

_"DiNozzo's a man of many talents."_

_"Sacks, shut up and run the software."_

_"Yeah, Sacks. Shut up and prepare to be amazed."_

Ziva couldn't look at Tim. He was either going to want to head-slap Sacks, for which she could not blame him in the least, or he would be laughing at Tony's quick comeback.

 

****

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

In the van, Gibbs smacked the back of Sacks' head as Fornell told him to shut up. Gibbs' lips quirked up at Tony's retort.

Before he could say anything else, they could hear the manager talking to Tony.

_"OK, DiNozzo. You're up. First set's 90 minutes, then you get a break before the second set. We'll have food ready for you."_

_"Thanks, Keith. Nothing heavy, weighs me down too much when I'm performing. And keep the water coming."_

He watched as Tony's camera fed the scene on the monitor as he walked through the back of the club to emerge near the small, raised stage at the front of the room. Sacks was running the manager's face through facial recognition.

_"Gibbs, you found anything yet?"_

"Not yet, Leon," he said. "Collins is a possibility, guy waiting on the McGees. Sacks is running-"

"No hits on the manager," the FBI agent said. "Vance, is Scuito still at NCIS? Can she run his cell records, see if there are any links between him and Ringpolle?"

_"She's here. Still waiting on the results from McGee's searches. I'll get her on it."_

Gibbs watched on the monitors as Tony took the stage. He looked the room over carefully, eyes tracking slowly. Gibbs joined Sacks and Fornell in isolating faces for the recognition software. With four video feeds going, they needed every pair of hands they could get.

"Leon, you got any techs who can help us out?"

_"You're the only op running tonight, Gibbs. I'll have them handle the feeds from DiNozzo and David. You three take care of the feeds from McGee and his mother."_

_"Welcome to Bitter Blues, ladies and gentlemen. Especially you lovely ladies out there. I'm Tony and I'm looking forward to tonight. It'll be mostly my own work, but if you've got a blues classic you want to hear, just let me know and if I can help you out, I will."_

His fingers started pulling a tune from the grand piano on stage, and Gibbs fought the shiver that ran up his spine at the memory of the last time he'd heard Tony play on the beat-up old upright in his den.

 _"It's nice to see so many people so early on a Friday night. I didn't think we'd have a big crowd until later. I see a few familiar faces out there. And a few I'd like to get to know better."_ His video feed focused on a group of women sitting two tables over from Ziva and the McGees. _"Maybe during the break, I can buy a few of you a drink. But first, I'll have to earn it."_ Tony started playing louder, the music an aching wave of sound. Before many minutes had passed, at least one woman in the group near the McGees was wiping her eyes.

"How does he do that?" Sacks hissed. "Knowing DiNozzo, he's going to walk out of this op with a handful of numbers from those women in the back."

Gibbs reached over and smacked the FBI agent again.

"Ouch! Gibbs!"

_"Tony is really good, Tim. His music almost makes my heart hurt."_

_"I know, Mom. You're not the only one. A couple of the women over there are already crying. They should wait until he really gets rolling. Good thing their server is taking them some extra napkins. Tony's going to make a couple of new conquests tonight."_

Gibbs watched Eileen's feed, but McGee's face was fine. He was even smirking, and Gibbs had a feeling McGee would be yanking Tony's chain once they got home. Gibbs felt a little tension ease out of his shoulders. He had been pretty sure those two could handle this. Nice to get confirmation. He turned his attention to McGee's feed as a tall, dark-haired waiter brought out the napkins and handed them to the women. He stayed for a minute, talking to them. This time it was Fornell running the software.

"Waiter is Neil Damon, Gibbs. Started the week before the first abduction." The FBI agent pressed a few more buttons. "Looks like he's got some petty stuff on his rap sheet: couple assault charges, some possession. Nothing major."

"David, McGee, keep an eye on the waiter at the women's table. DiNozzo, you focus on the rest of the room."

 

****

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Tony let his fingers roam the keys, not even really thinking about what he was playing. It worked well enough at home, and it left him free to pay attention to the rest of the room. It had taken a few minutes to get used to playing on the piano's full-size keyboard again after using just his smaller electronic one at home. His lips twitched as he listened to the audio feed in his ear. Sacks was going to get a concussion at the rate he was going. And he knew Tim was going to be teasing him about his "conquests" for a few days. Well, if it helped throw Sacks off the trail, it would be worth it. Besides, he owed Tim about a thousand more opportunities to tease him for all the grief he'd given the junior agent over the years.

Hearing Gibbs' direction in his ear, Tony scanned the room slowly, evaluating the crowd. Several couples were swaying to the music in the small dance space in front of the stage. He would pause periodically to make eye contact with somebody while he played, then move on. He had turned the voice mike off after his introduction, just in case. So as long as he spoke quietly and wasn't obvious about it, he could communicate with the team.

"A couple of the women from that table near you are at the bar, chatting with the bartender," he said. "Probie, why don't you and Ziva get up, maybe do some dancing? Make your way over there."

_"Ziva, would you like to dance?"_

_"I would love to, Tim."_

_"Sounds like a good idea, son. If we're not here when you get back, it's because I dragged your mother out on the dance floor, too."_

Tony let his fingers pick up the rhythm a bit, giving them something more upbeat to dance to. "I'll pick up the dark-haired waiter who was chatting up the group of women in the back while they're tracking the bartender." He allowed his eyes to follow the man's movements around the room. From time to time, Tim and Ziva would cross paths with the waiter as he steered her around the dance floor toward the bartender.

"You're not half bad, Fred Astaire," Tony said as Tim spun Ziva out so she could get a look at where the bartender was chatting with two of the women. "James Bond would be proud."

Except that as soon as he said it, Ziva's arm clipped the shoulder of the waiter Tony had been tracking, jarring him enough that several drinks on his tray slopped over the sides.

_"Oh, I am so sorry. I am afraid I just got carried away."_

_"Here, let me help you with that."_ Tim grabbed some napkins from the bar and started to spread them across the drink tray.

 _"No, I'm fine. Just-"_ Tony heard a crunch and looked up to see Tim picking up his glasses from the floor, obviously mangled.

_"Dammit. McGee, your feed's gone. Make sure he doesn't see anything he shouldn't on those glasses."_

Tony's hands started to pull away from the keys, but he forced himself to keep playing. He didn't think anybody had noticed the slight hesitation.

_"DiNozzo."_

"Right, Boss. Might be a distraction." He forced himself to move his focus away from his partner and looked around, talking softly. "Not causing too much attention except on that side of the room. Nobody's heading for the restrooms that I can see. Any super spy gadgets fall out of your glasses, Tim?"

_"Ziva, it looks like you're driving home tonight. My glasses have pretty well had it."_

_"Sir, let me help you get that."_

_"No. I have them. It's just a couple little pieces of the frame. We've already caused you enough trouble, spilling your drinks."_

_"It's really no trouble."_

_"Please. We are fine. Tim, give me your glasses. I will put them in my purse."_

_"Thanks, Zee."_

_"Bartender's clean. He's been there six years, no record. Looks like Damon's our prime suspect. McGee, Ziva, be careful. Don't make him nervous. No hard evidence against him yet."_

Tony could feel his insides clench at Gibbs' words, but forced himself to keep watching and talking, to push everything else into the piano. He didn't relax until Tim and Ziva were back at the table.

_"Tim, is everything all right?"_

_"It's fine, Mom. Just a little spill. I just wanted to help him clean it up."_

"So are we sure this is our guy?"

_"Miss Scuito's running his car and phone records now. Hang on... She's got his cell phone headed for the second drop spot each of the nights somebody went missing. Looks like we have our man."_

_"Nope. Need to connect him to Murchinson."_

"Bring him in, Gibbs. You can break him in interrogation." Tony just wanted this to be over so he could go home and make sure Tim was really OK. Trying to play a role and do his job and not worry was wearing him out.

_"And if we're wrong, we've blown our cover. No other options. Keep an eye on that party of women. Ziva, if you get the chance, strike up a conversation. Find out who the target would be. If there are no single women, we're probably not getting anything tonight."_

 

****

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

With no glasses, Tim figured he needed to stick close to the table to not blow his cover. He couldn't scan to provide video feed, and with Ziva over at the bar trying to make friends with the women from the next table, he couldn't provide any information anyway. Since they all had camera glasses with audio, they hadn't bothered with the earwig mikes, not wanting to risk feedback from having too many mikes too close together. All he could do was listen. His parents were doing the same. His dad had moved to the bench seat along the wall next to his mother and had his arm around her shoulders. Tim took one of the remaining chairs and angled it so he could see Tony playing. He'd rather have his arm around him, too, but since he couldn't come up with any way they could do that and still have Tony playing - at least without involving Abby and strange cloning experiments in the lab - he'd settle for this. As he listened to the audio feed with one ear, he finally let himself relax a bit and listen to Tony play with the other. He kept an eye on Damon, just in case he had spotted something in the glasses, but Tim was pretty sure they were OK. The bar lighting was dim, and the video components were tiny. The music washed over him, and Tim realized how much richer it sounded coming from a real piano. He listened to Tony play every night, but he'd never heard it sound like this before.

"Tim? You OK?"

"I'm fine, Dad. Just... enjoying the music." That was all he could say. With everybody listening in, including possibly Abby, he couldn't say he liked watching Tony's face as he played, liked hearing the music fill the room in a way Tony's electronic keyboard couldn't. Smiling, he realized that was something he could do for the senior agent. They had all that extra space upstairs, and he had plenty of money stashed away from royalties on Rock Hollow and the advance for his next book. The only tough part would be getting Tony out of the house long enough to get a piano delivered. Well, that and finding a way to get it upstairs. Maybe there was a way to fit it in the living room. He'd talk to Gibbs. He'd need the team leader's help to get Tony out of the house during the delivery anyway.

Ziva's voice in his ear brought him back to reality.

_"No luck, Gibbs. The women all are married. Their husbands had plans tonight for some sporting event, so they made plans for a ladies' night out."_

_"OK, people. Keep an eye on Damon, but looks like we're going to have to wait this one out and come back tomorrow. I've got a few ideas."_

 

****

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Back at NCIS, Abby was working on one of the MTAC computers while Vance listened in on the op.

"I've got it! I've got it!" She spun around in the chair.

"Got what, Scuito?"

"I hacked the GPS for Damon's car and I have it moving from the alley behind the club to the vacant lot the night Murchinson died. He has to have left some evidence in the car, or some evidence of the car on her body. We just need to search the car."

"Not that easy. Everything we have is circumstantial. I can't get a judge to sign off on a warrant based on this."

_"Got an idea, Leon."_

"What is it, Gibbs?"

_"Get Fornell to bring in a team of female agents tomorrow night, pretend like they're doing this girls' night out thing. Couple of them can flirt with Damon. We can put our team back in. The staff won't suspect anything. He snatches one of them. We rescue her, put Ziva in her place. Take him out when he goes to drag her off. David can handle him. We'll be outside in case he gets her out the door."_

"Good thinking, Gibbs. Whole op is well-planned. Now we just need McGee's searches to give us-"

Abby spun back around as her computer started beeping. "We've got it!" She sent the address up to the main screen. "This has to be where Ringpolle's home base is. It's the only place that fits the criteria and has a big enough building to house this creepshow."

_"Good work, Abbs."_

 

She smiled as Vance pulled out his cell phone. "Balboa. Vance. Time to move out. You're in charge. Johnson's team from FBI will assist." He read the address off the screen. "Get in, get this son of a bitch and rescue the women. Take Dr. Mallard and Palmer to do triage." He hung up.

"Nice work, Scuito."

"McGee did the heavy lifting on this one," she said. "I just tracked it while he and the team were running the op."

"Good work, McGee. OK, folks. Relax. Soon as DiNozzo finishes up, get out of there. It's going to be a long day tomorrow."

Abby looked at her watch and decided to stick around. She was sure Tim had been about to say something to her in the lab earlier before her babies started talking. She'd been wanting to ask him out for a while, ever since he'd told her his girlfriend had broken up with him. First though she'd wanted to give him some time to get over her, then things had been so crazy with him and Tony moving. And she hadn't wanted to ask him while she was sick, not when she knew he had to be careful not to take germs home to Tony.

She was in the bullpen when the team walked in. Ziva only stayed long enough to get her gear and head home, while Fornell and Gibbs went upstairs to talk to Vance. Sacks hadn't even bothered to come in the building, which Abby thought was the first intelligent thing the man had done all week.

She walked over to Tim's desk, where he was filing away all the search results on his screen. Tony was kicked back in his chair, just chilling out — probably waiting for Tim to finish so they could drive home.

"Tim, you did great today," Abby said. She smiled as she leaned behind him and wrapped her arms around him as she'd done so many times before.

"Thanks, Abbs," he said.

"Hey Tim?" She bit her lower lip. "I've been thinking. I didn't want to ask before this, because I wasn't sure you were ready — after your girlfriend dumped you and all — but do you want to go out this weekend? Like we used to?"

She felt his shoulders tense beneath her, but before anybody could say anything, Vance's voice came from above.

"DiNozzo. McGee. My office. Now."

Abby stepped back as Tim jumped up.

"Do you know?" he said to Tony.

The senior field agent shook his head. "You don't think...?"

"You're the one who said..."

"I know. Come on. If we don't get up there now, we're liable to end up both Agent-Afloating."

As the walked side by side up the stairs, Abby muttered all sorts of things about the director's timing that would have gotten even her written up if the director had heard her say them out loud. Now she would have to wait until tomorrow to talk to Tim.


	49. Chapter 48

Tony looked at Tim as they opened the outer door to the director's office. "Maybe he just wants to tell us he knows and give us cookies?"

Tim rolled his eyes. "Haven't you gotten enough free food this week? Come on, let's get this over with."

They walked into the inner sanctum, shoulder to shoulder. Neither was going to let the other face this alone.

Vance was alone, and he didn't waste any time beating around the bush. "DiNozzo, McGee. I've been watching you."

Tony's first instinct whenever a situation got tense was to open his mouth and let the words take over, drowning out the tension and covering over whatever storm was about to break. Gibbs, Vance, even Tim... they could do the silent thing. They could watch and wait and pick their words carefully, measuring them out as if each cost its weight in gold. Not him. Words bubbled, poured, streamed from him, flowing around reality and drowning it so he could look it in the face, laugh and refuse to accept it. Facing FBI murder charges? He'd ramble. Being interrogated by Eli David? He'd babble and tap dance his way to the truth. Held in a prison camp facing certain death at the hands of a terrorist, his body full of truth serum? Tony would talk and talk until he'd said more than even Saleem wanted to know.

And yet here he held his tongue. There was nothing to say.

Tim stepped up to the conversational plate. "And?"

Tony didn't have to look to know McEyebrow was giving Vance that look, the one that appeared like he was just curious. The one Tim pulled out every time he was trying to bluff his way through something. Tony kept his eyes on Vance, muscles tensed for action.

"You did well tonight. You didn't let your concern for each other distract you from the mission."

He started breathing again, relief so great he almost missed the director's next words.

"As a result, we're going to be able to bring down this son of a bitch. I have to admit, when I first realized what was going on, I was concerned. Even though Gibbs assured me that he wouldn't let anything interfere with your team's safety, and even though I trust Gibbs, I trust my eyes more. No way to know what would happen until the two of you were out in the field. If tonight had been a test, you two passed with flying colors."

Tony felt tension drain out of his muscles, tension that had been building since Tim's glasses had broken. He had to lock his knees to keep from just melting to the floor and forced himself to focus as Vance kept talking.

"I know the regs aren't clear on whether agents on the same team can be in an extra-curricular relationship, so I've been making some discreet inquiries. Federal HR places that decision at the discretion of the supervisor and agency head. I'm placing a confidential memo in each of your files. If anybody ever presses the issue, it will show you two have proven yourselves. You two are valuable assets to this agency, two of the best agents I have."

Tony felt his throat catch at Vance's words. Gibbs had promised him that the Agent Afloat assignment wasn't punishment, that Israel wasn't retaliation. Gibbs had reassured him Vance valued his experience. But as much as he trusted Gibbs, hearing it from Vance left his heart light. Even knowing Hurricane Abby was waiting downstairs didn't worry him. He smiled. Actually, with Vance on their side, he was less worried about Abby's reaction. Sure, she would be mad — and loud. Abby was capable of alerting the entire Navy Yard even on a good day. But Vance had their back. Even Sacks couldn't file a complaint that would override Vance's decision. And Abby would forgive them. Eventually. Once her feelings were done being hurt. He hoped.

Vance dismissed them, and they headed back to the bullpen. Tony expected to find Abby waiting for Tim, but she had left. "Abby's gone?"

"I guess," Tim said. "It's almost 0200. Come on, if Gibbs wants us back here by 0700, we need to get home."

But when they got home, Tim headed for his study.

"Tim, the alarm's going off in four hours," Tony said.

"I know." Tim rubbed the back of his neck. "I just..."

Tony nodded. From the other side of the bullpen, it might have appeared like he was out of it while Abby was talking to Tim, but he'd heard every word she'd said. "Go. Write." He headed upstairs to change, but ended up going back down to the living room and lying on the couch. He knew if he went to bed he'd fall asleep, and he didn't want Tim up all night — or what was left of it.

He pulled the fleece blanket over himself. Jethro padded next to him and lay down, nudging Tony's hand with his head until Tony reached to scratch him behind the ears.

When half an hour had passed and he hadn't heard a single typewriter key, Tony sat up. "Are you coming to bed?"

"I'll be there in a minute," Tim said. "I'm just... thinking."

"I know. I can almost smell the smoke from the spinning gears in your brain, McGenius." Tony walked to the doorway of the study and looked in. Tim was slumped in his desk chair. "I heard what she asked, you know."

"You did?" Tim turned to look at him. "I didn't think you had."

Tony shrugged. "I wanted to see what was going to happen, and then Vance called us in. When you didn't bring it back up, I figured I'd let the McBrain work on it for a bit."

"Yeah, well, my brain's as exhausted as the rest of me. I knew I needed to tell her, but I was hoping she might already have a clue. She's Abby! How did she miss everything? The hug, OK, but _everything?"_

Tony reached out a hand and pulled Tim to his feet. "She wasn't looking for it. If what Ziva said is true, she's been thinking about getting back together with you for a couple months now. And if that's where her mind is — looking for signs you might be interested — she wasn't going to notice signs that we're together. Especially since we tried to hide it for so long."

Tim groaned as he followed Tony up the stairs. "That's what happens when she forgets her own philosophy on evidence."

"Her what?"

"When we were sorting through all those Damocles electronics, she told me that when it comes to evidence, don't plan. Just go. Find along the way. Because if you look for something specific, then there's only one right answer."

Tony set the alarm and started pulling off his clothes. "And she just proved that in spades. Not that I think we should tell her that."

Tim snorted. "No, definitely not." He climbed into bed and settled against the other man. "So what do we tell her?"

"I don't know, but let's figure it out tomorrow. Sleep now. Think later."

 

****

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The ring of a cell phone woke Tim the next morning. The bedroom was still dark, but he could tell the sky was starting to lighten outside. He turned his head to see Tony had picked up the phone and heard him garble out a greeting.

"OK, Boss. We'll check in at noon." Tony flipped the phone closed.

Tim blinked his eyes a few times. "What did Gibbs want?" His voice was heavy with sleep.

"We get to sleep in. Balboa and Johnson's teams busted Ringpolle. Rescued the women. Several are in bad shape, but they're alive. Found enough evidence to link Ringpolle to Damon, so they were able to pick him up, search his car. Got some hairs and fibers from the trunk they think match Murchinson. Gibbs called Abby back in to run the forensics while Damon's cooling his heels in interrogation. Gibbs is pretty sure he can break this guy. So we have to check in at noon, but as of now, we have the rest of the weekend off. There are still some loose ends, but Fornell and Sacks will come by Monday to tie those up."

Tim felt his muscles relax as Tony explained. "Do we need to call Mom and Dad, let them know the op is off?"

"Probably," Tony said. "Gibbs didn't say he had." He looked at the alarm clock. "It's barely even six." He reached over and switched the alarm off. "Come on, let's enjoy the morning off. We can call them later, when we're actually awake." He pulled Tim close and snuggled under the covers. Tim rolled them so he was half-lying on Tony, long limbs sprawled across him, and leaned in to kiss him.

"I like the way you think, Tim," Tony said, pulling away to breathe, before tugging Tim's head down to his again.

The sun was high by the time Jethro finally dragged them out of bed.

"I'll go let McMutt out, then start breakfast," Tony said. "Eggs and bacon sound good?"

Tim stopped to look at Tony. "Is bacon ever a bad idea? You know better than that."

"Good point." As Jethro whined, Tim tossed the other man a sweatshirt and sweatpants from the dresser.

"Go on or we're going to have puddles to clean up," Tim said, shooing them out of the bedroom.

By the time Tim got out of the shower, he could smell breakfast and realized he hadn't had anything to eat since before they had left for Annapolis the previous day. When he walked into the kitchen, Tony set a plate of eggs and bacon on the table for him.

"Not to ruin a day that's started off so well, but what do we do about Abby?" Tim asked after they had eaten their fill. "We need to tell her. I need to tell her. Knowing her, she's going to call or stop by as soon as Gibbs lets her leave today."

Tony scrubbed his face with his hands. "I don't know, Tim. I was thinking about it while the food was cooking, and I don't know of any way to tell her at this point that isn't going to hurt her. For all her leather and spikes, Abby's got a soft heart. And we're about to bruise it, big time."

Tim nodded. He could feel tension seeping back into his shoulders, and he rolled them to try and keep them loose. "Why don't I-"

Tony's cell phone rang. "It's Abby," he said, looking at the screen. "Hey, Abbs. You nail this dirtbag yet?"

Tim watched Tony's face change. "Sure, Abbs. No, we're just eating breakfast. It's not every day Gibbs lets us sleep in. I'd be surprised if Ziva or Palmer have been up long either." He paused. "OK. Six o'clock. See you then." He paused again. "No, I'll tell him. He's sitting right here."

Tim smiled as Tony hung up. "You got her to come over so we can tell her?"

Tony shook his head. "No, she only called me because she couldn't reach you on your phone."

Tim winced. "It's still on the nightstand upstairs."

"I think she was calling to see if you were around. And since she had me on the phone and since we all have the day off, she figured tonight would be the perfect time for the game night we promised to host. What was I supposed to say? 'No, we can't do game night until we tell you we're dating?'"

"True." Tim rolled his shoulders again. "So do we call Ziva and Palmer?"

Tony shook his head. "She's calling them. It's not like we can call behind her and ask the others to watch what they say tonight because she doesn't know yet. You know they'll all think we need to come clean with her. And we know we need to tell her. I think at this point we just have to let things happen. Because she's going to be at NCIS until she comes over, and you can't really call her there and tell her over the phone."

Tim thought about it, then shook his head slowly. "No, you're right. I don't like it, but you're right."

 

****

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Tony was halfway through assembling the lasagna when he heard the doorbell ring. He grabbed a towel and wiped his hands off as he went to open the door.

"Hey, Tony!" Abby's arms were piled high with games, and her pigtails bounced as she practically vibrated with excitement. "I know I'm early, but I couldn't wait."

"Come on in, Abbs." He stuffed the towel in his back pocket and grabbed the top of the towering stack. He couldn't have asked for a better set-up, but that didn't make him dread it any less. "I'm just finishing up dinner, and Tim's out running with Jethro so hopefully he'll be too worn out to want to play with us tonight. Grab a seat, chill out. I'll be done in a few minutes. Just need to get everything assembled and in the oven."

He put the games on the coffee table and headed back into the kitchen. He should have known Abby would be early, but it was probably just as well it turned out this way. He knew Tim felt like it was his responsibility to tell Abby about them, especially since he was the one she wanted, but Tony didn't agree. He loved Abby like a sister, and he had a few things he wanted her to understand — things he knew Tim wouldn't be able to bring himself to say. Things he might not even realize needed to be said.

Tony finished the classic Italian dish on autopilot and put it in the oven to bake. He washed up and headed back to the living room. When he didn't see Abby there, he felt a twist in his gut. Walking through the front entryway, he stood in the doorway to the study. Abby was sitting on the floor, looking at the "Family" photo collage the McGees had left for Tim — the one that definitively showed the two men were more than co-workers and roommates. Unlike Gibbs when he saw it, Abby wasn't smiling. She wasn't crying, which Tony thought was a good sign, but she definitely wasn't smiling. She just stared, her knees drawn to her chest, arms wrapped around them. He figured the spikes on her leather cuffs had to be hurting her in that position, but he didn't think the pain on her face was from that.

Tony walked in and softly dropped to the ground beside her. "Abbs?" He waited for her to turn and look at him before reaching over to hug her. She pulled back, and Tony had to force down the hurt of rejection. "Abbs, I'm sorry. We meant to tell you."

She looked up at him, wide pale green eyes so like Tim's and yet not. Her black and red makeup was stark against her white skin, a study in contrasts, just as the spiked goth now looked like a shy child as she chewed her lower lip. "How long?" Her voice was almost inaudible, and somehow that made Tony realize, more than anything, that they might have irrevocably damaged their relationship with their best friend. Abby was never quiet. That was like Gibbs babbling incessantly or Ducky giving just the facts or Ziva completely relaxing. It was a sign the world had tilted on its axis, perhaps never to return to normal.

"Come on, let's go sit in the living room. We can at least be comfortable." He eased himself up and offered her a hand. She took it, but when they got to the couch, she sat on the far end, putting as much distance between them as she could.

"How long?" she repeated.

Tony sighed. "Since June. Just a few weeks after we got back from Israel. I had gotten my cast off a few days earlier."

"But... I know Timmy goes both ways, but you're straight, Tony."

He just shook his head. "Not completely. Working in law enforcement, you get good at hiding it. We both did. I think... If we hadn't been so good at hiding it, we might have realized sooner." He voiced the thought that had been buried since the beginning. "If we hadn't hidden from each other, we might have realized it before I killed Rivken... before Ziva stayed in Israel."

Abby just stared at him. "You... I thought... Rivken?"

He nodded slowly. "I didn't go to Ziva's apartment because I was worried about her. Well, I was, but I was more concerned about Tim — and Gibbs — considering the strings Rivken had pulled while they were in L.A." He huffed out a breath. "After Ziva left, I realized something had to give. I couldn't keep pretending Tim was just a friend. The team was already fractured with her gone. I had always known if anything happened between Tim and me, it would either bring us all closer together, or it would be the last straw and Gibbs would be building a new team from scratch. It wasn't worth the risk before. But once Ziva was gone, I figured there was nothing left to lose." He needed Abby to understand.

"So nobody knew?"

Tony shook his head. "We didn't tell anybody," he said. "Well, not anybody on the team. I let it slip to Brad — sneaky Wolverine that he is — and Tim told his parents. Sarah figured it out before anybody else knew. She said something when we came back from Somalia."

Abby nodded. "Who else knows?"

Tony winced. There was no way to say this without hurting Abby more than she was already. He decided to use the Band-Aid method. "Everybody. Each of them has told us at some point this week that they know. That's why Vance called us up to his office last night. He was the last one. Tim went down to the lab yesterday morning to tell you, because we realized we needed to be the ones to let you know. And then the DNA results came in and things got crazy and..." He could see her eyes filling with tears and crawled across the sofa to pull her into his arms. "I'm sorry, Abbs. We never meant to hurt you. We just... we didn't know how people would take it, how Gibbs would take it. And then once he told us Sunday he knew and he was OK with it, it seemed like everybody was beating down our door to tell us they knew. And before we knew it, it was just you and Vance." He hugged her to his chest, rubbing small circles on her back.

She stayed there for a minute, then pulled back. "I just... I didn't realize until a few months ago how much Timmy had changed since he joined the team, and I realized I had changed, too. And I thought we might be able to make it work this time."

Tony took a deep breath, knowing he had to say this, had to get it off his chest. Knowing he couldn't go back once he said it.

"I think you would be a lot better together now than you were then," he said. "You're right. You have changed, and so has Tim. But so have I. You and Tim fit together in a lot of ways. I watch you in the lab, and sometimes I'm jealous of how the two of you seem to share a brain. But Tim and I have more than that. You can't bring yourself to need him. I can. It scares the hell out of me sometimes, and I almost completely screwed us up because it does scare me so much. Tim even had to beat some sense into me. And he did, because he knew he could. He knew I wouldn't walk away if he tried." He took a deep breath. "You're good for him, Abby, in so many ways. You're good for both of us, and neither of us can imagine not having you as a friend. And knowing you two had that special connection was one reason I never thought Tim could be interested in me. But you weren't willing to risk it. I was. It took a lot for me to take that step, to dare to stand in your shoes. And I'm not moving aside. If I thought you were better for him than I am, I'd do it in a heartbeat. But as good as you two are together, he and I are better. We're not complete without each other anymore.

"When Gibbs came over last Sunday to tell us he knew, he said he was OK with it. That meant a lot. You know he's more a dad to me than my father ever was. But if he had invoked Rule 12, I would have left NCIS. I don't know what I would have done. But if I ever have to choose between the best job I've ever had in my life and Tim... I'll choose him every time. And I don't want it to come to this, but the same applies to you. You're the little sister I never had, and if anything happened to you... It would be a million times worse than thinking Ziva was dead or watching Kate die, worse even than watching Gibbs get blown up. But Tim is as essential to me as breathing, and as hard as I'm fighting to keep doing that, I'll fight a million times harder to keep Tim."

 

 

****

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Tim slowed to a walk as he and Jethro approached their home. At the sight of the red hot rod parked in front, Tim felt an icy shiver that had nothing to do with the cold weather. He detoured to the backyard and put Jethro there, before quietly returning to the front of the house and letting himself in. He could see Abby's dark hair against Tony's shoulder as they sat on the couch and decided to hang back a bit and figure out what was going on before he walked into a mess.

He watched her pull away and could just barely hear her words to Tony. And then Tony started talking and his first words were about Tim and Abby together, and Tim was suddenly glad he had stayed in the hallway. Did Tony really think... But his partner kept talking, and Tim just listened. He heard things he never thought anybody would ever say about him, things he never thought Tony would ever say about anybody. He thought of everything Tony was going through with his lungs and of all the effort he was putting in to stay healthy. And when he tried multiplying that by a million, he shorted out the calculator in his brain because it couldn't handle a number that big.

He decided he needed to let them know he was here, that Tony needed to know he had heard. He stepped into the room and found Tony's arms wrapped around Abby, whose body was shaking with sobs as she curled into him. Tim caught Tony's eye and moved to sit on the arm of the sofa where he could put his arms around them as well.

He didn't know how long they sat there before the doorbell rang.


	50. Chapter 49

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just one chapter left after this! But before you read it, keep an eye out for [Dares to Stand,](http://archiveofourown.org/works/512200) which is a chapter tag to this. It didn't fit into this story, but it is a pretty important piece to this universe, and it will make more sense to read before Chapter 50.

When he heard the doorbell, Tim looked at the clock and cursed.

"Abbs, that has to be either Ziva or Palmer. Are you OK? Because we can cancel the game night."

She shook her head. "I'm OK. Just let me clean up my face."

"Tim, take her upstairs to use the bathroom there. I'll get the door." Tony stood.

Abby followed Tim up the stairs and could hear Tony opening the door as she reached the top of the staircase. Tim pointed to the guest bathroom and turned to walk toward what she now realized was their bedroom. She put her hand on his arm to stop him.

"I'm sorry, Tim," she said. "I was so caught up in what I wanted..."

"No, I'm sorry," he said. "We should have told you." He sighed. "After Gibbs threatened to ship me to CyberCrimes, I guess I was just too chicken to tell you."

"Why would Bossman send you to the subbasement?"

"When he came over last week, we asked him who else knew. He thought only Ziva, and then I asked about you. He said he was sure you didn't because he could tell you wanted me back, and if it turned into a soap opera, he was sending me to CyberCrimes. Because it would be the only way all three of us could continue at the Navy Yard if we couldn't work together." Tim smiled. "I'd do it. If that's what it took to stay with Tony... He's not the only one who would give up being a field agent to stay together. But I'd rather not have to."

Abby swallowed down the lump in her throat. "You won't have to. Not because of me. I promise." And then she ducked into the bathroom before Tim could see the uncertainty in her eyes. She wet a washcloth and scrubbed at her face, removing all traces of the makeup that had smeared around her eyes. Without it, her eyes looked bigger, softer. She stared at herself in the mirror, knowing she needed to look like she was OK when she walked downstairs. She didn't want to make everybody uncomfortable, and she didn't want the guys to think she couldn't handle it. Because for all the things she didn't know right now... everything she couldn't process because her brain was too overwhelmed... the one thing she did know was that both men were serious when they said they would give up NCIS, give up the team, even give up her friendship if it came down to that.

She took a deep breath and shoved her hurt down deep. She forced her lips to turn up in a smile and thought about Bert and Major Mass Spec and Caf-Pow and trying to get Gibbs to guess the results of her tests until the smile felt more genuine than it had started. She could do this. She could get through game night without anybody knowing that the foundation she'd built her future on had been lifted up by a tornado. She could do this. She would laugh and tease and ask if she could watch like she knew everybody expected of her, even if watching was the last thing she wanted to do. Because her heart might actually break to see Tim loving somebody else the way he used to love her.

 

****

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Jimmy knew they were home — he could see both cars, plus Abby's — but he was beginning to wonder if anyone would ever answer the door. Tony looked a little flustered when he finally ushered him inside, and Jimmy could hear footsteps going to the second floor.

"Come on in," Tony said. He looked at the bag and box Jimmy carried. "What's that?" "I brought chips and beer," Jimmy said. Tony led the way back to the kitchen. "Where are McGee and Abby?" Jimmy asked. "Upstairs. Tim's taking a shower, and Abby's... She just found out about Tim and me." Jimmy felt his eyebrows rise to his hairline, and Tony rushed to defend himself. "We were sure she would have figured it out on her own, like the rest of you did. But... Well, Tim was going to tell her yesterday, and then things got crazy so quickly. So when she showed up this evening, I... I think she just needs a few minutes to herself."

Jimmy nodded. He had a feeling he knew what Tony wasn't saying. McGee and Abby had a past. They all knew that. And he was pretty sure she had always seen Tim as part of her future, too. He decided changing the subject was the only way he could keep from saying something that would only make the other man feel worse. "So, what smells so good?"

"My famous lasagna," Tony said, smiling in appreciation when Jimmy changed the subject. "Eileen said it's even better than hers." He laughed. "Tim, ever the diplomat, won't say either way."

Jimmy laughed. "If it tastes as good as it smells, I'll vote for yours." He grabbed a beer from the case, handed one to Tony, and put the rest in the refrigerator. "So how long is it going to take to explain the rules of all these games to Ziva?"

"She knows how to play Scrabble," Tony said. "She and Tim play at work sometimes. They say it's a vocabulary-building exercise, but they hide the board if Gibbs comes in."

"Oh, right," Jimmy said. "I wondered why they had the tiles when I was trying to remember the name on the passport that time." Before he could say anything else, the doorbell rang again.

"There's our little ninja chick now," Tony said. "Find a seat and get comfortable."

Jimmy followed Tony out of the kitchen and snagged a seat on the couch. He heard clomping on the steps and looked over to see Abby collide with Tony and Ziva at the bottom of the stairs.

"Sorry, guys," the scientist said. "I wasn't looking where I was going." It was the first time Jimmy had ever seen her without black defining her eyes, and she looked younger somehow. Her smile was big. Too big? After what Tony had said, what he'd seen himself watching Abby the past several weeks, he knew she couldn't be as fine as she looked.

"No worries," Tony said. "We're fine. Your spikes missed everything important." He tugged one of her pigtails and smiled when she looked up at him. Jimmy thought he saw a small nod from her, but he couldn't be sure. "There's beer in the fridge, and we've got some red wine for anyone who'd rather have that. It goes with my lasagna."

"Is that what smells so wonderful?" Ziva asked, following Tony into the living room. "I think I would like wine."

Jimmy watched Abby bring up the rear and wanted to say something, but he knew this had to be tough for her. She had been supportive when he was hurting after he learned Michelle had been using him to access part of the Navy Yard; he wasn't going to turn around and draw attention to her when he knew she had to be toughing things out.

"Beer for me," Abby said. "You did bring good stuff, right, Jimmy?"

He nodded. "Your favorite."

She hugged him, and he tried to keep his beer from sloshing on the couch, before she moved to sit down next to him. He felt his cheeks flush and couldn't help grinning. He knew Abby didn't mean anything by it — not when she had been upset about Tim and Tony just minutes ago — but he could enjoy it, maybe even flirt back a bit, give her something else to focus on. "You rock, Jimmy." She started sorting through the games on the table. "So what do we play first? Clue? Twister? Monopoly? You did say you had Monopoly, right, Tony?"

"Chill, Abbs," Tony said as he brought out the beer and a glass of wine for the two women. "We have it. But if we play that, we won't have time to play anything else unless you guys are planning on staying up until all hours."

"And maybe we should start with games that are easier to explain to Ziva." Jimmy realized that didn't sound right. "Not that you couldn't play Monopoly, Ziva, it's just that... I mean..."

"We know, Jimmy," Tony said. He walked to the bottom of the stairs. "OK, McClean, get out of the shower," he called up.

Jimmy and the girls couldn't help laughing at the exasperation in his voice.

"Timmy just got back from running with Jethro, and he was all stinky," Abby said. "Wait! Tony, where's Jethro?"

"Probably in the backyard," Tony said. "McMutt practically lives out there. I'll see if he's ready to come in."

A minute later, four paws came pounding into the living room, and Jimmy had to set his beer down on the end table as Jethro hopped up on the couch and sprawled across him and Abby.

"Jimmy, can you take this?" Abby handed him her beer, which he placed next to his.

Tony walked into the living room and set another glass of wine on the end table before pointing a finger at the dog. "Jethro, down."

The dog slunk down onto the floor and settled for curling up around Abby's feet.

"Sorry, Abbs, but he doesn't get to climb on the furniture," Tony said, taking a seat in the chair next to the couch.

"Except the bed." Tim walked into the room, hair damp, wearing a green sweater and jeans. He took the glass of wine Tony handed him and settled on the floor between Tony's legs. "I think Hanson must have let him, because he's always done that."

"The two of you and Jethro in one bed?" Abby said. "That must put a crimp in things." She smirked.

"We-" Tony bit off his response. "Nice try, Abbs."

"Hey, you never know." She smirked again. "I'll bet you two are seriously hot in bed. I mean, Bossman is the only man I know hotter than you two, and..." Jimmy winced as she didn't even seem to consider him.

"Abby, please. Stop there, before I need to bleach my brain," Tim said.

"Yeah, there are some mental images we really don't need," Tony said. "Right, Palmer?"

"Ew." Jimmy wrinkled his nose.

"So what game do we start with?" Tim said.

"It has to be a short one, because the lasagna's going to be ready in about 20 minutes," Tony said.

"Clue?" Tim suggested. "With a room full of investigators, we should be able to play pretty quickly."

"I call Miss Scarlet," Abby said.

"McWriter here is Professor Plum," Tony said. "And I'm Col. Mustard."

"Guess that means I'm Mr. Green," Jimmy said.

"I am confused," Ziva said.

"Pick a color, Zee," Tony said. "Blue or white."

"White."

"Perfect," Tony said. "Mrs. White, the quietly dangerous widow whose husband was found with his head cut off... along with another critical appendage."

"What?" Jimmy looked at him.

"Come on! You've never seen the movie? It's a classic. Tim Curry, Christopher Lloyd, Madeline Kahn. All the game pieces represent people who are being blackmailed by the mysterious Mr. Boddy."

"So I'm running an escort service, and Tim's doing naughty things with female patients... or would that be suspects?" Abby giggled. "And you're using your war profiteering money to purchase my services."

"I'm lost," Jimmy said.

"As am I," Ziva said.

"For once, I'm not," Tim said, pointing at Tony and Abby. "Between these two, I've actually seen this one."

Tony laughed. "Jimmy, all you have to remember is one line. Every time somebody in the middle of a long-winded story says 'To make a long story short...'"

"Too late!" chorused Tim, Abby and Tony.

Jimmy almost snorted beer out his nose. "Can you see me saying that the next time Gibbs cuts off Dr. Mallard?"

After they finished laughing and managed to explain the rules of the game to Ziva, they sat on the floor around the coffee table to play.

"Hey, Tony. No peeking," Tim said after the first round.

"I wasn't peeking," Tony retorted. "Can't a guy snuggle?"

"Not when it means you can see my cards," Tim said, hiding his cards and score sheet.

Tony made a face and ostentatiously moved away from Tim, who just rolled his eyes.

"Watch, now Tony's going to win," Abby said.

But in the end, it was Ziva who figured out the solution.

"Col. Mustard, in the study, with the candlestick."

Tony scrambled to his feet and dashed out of the room, and Tim started to laugh. "He knows we don't have any candlesticks in the study."

At that, Abby climbed across Ziva and Jimmy to see what Tony was up to across the entryway. Jimmy swallowed and tried to keep his face from turning red as the scientist leaned over his lap. He turned to look and saw Tony standing in the doorway to the study holding a...

"Is that a flashlight?" he asked.

"Well, Tim doesn't have any candlesticks in there," Tony said. "It gives off light. Close enough."

Abby collapsed in a heap, laughing, and Jimmy found himself in a tangle with the two women.

"Way to go, Jimmy," Tony said, cheering.

"Oh, go get dinner ready," Tim said. He got up and walked over to the pile of Gibblets and pulled Abby to her feet. "Come on, Abbs. No squishing the rest of the team."

"At least not until we get to Twister," she replied. She reached down to give Jimmy a hand, while Tim pulled Ziva to her feet.

They crowded around the kitchen table while Tony dished out lasagna and salad.

"Tony, this is delicious," Ziva said.

"Thanks, Zee."

After dinner, as Tony wrapped up the few leftovers, Abby said, "OK, Twister time!"

"Abbs, why don't we digest first?" Tony said over his shoulder. "I'm too stuffed to be part of a human knot."

When Abby started to argue, Jimmy decided to chime in. "While moving around some after meals is supposed to aid in the digestion of food, generally vigorous exercise is contraindicated because it draws blood away from the digestive organs to power the muscles."

"Thanks, Dr. Palmer," Tim said. "Let's play Trivial Pursuit first. Then we can play Twister."

"Oh, all right," Abby said.

"And Abbs, make sure all the spikes come off before we start," Tony said as he closed the refrigerator door. "Palmer's got better things to do than patch us up tonight."

Jimmy didn't know which was funnier, Abby sticking out her tongue at Tony or Ziva's look of complete confusion.

They crowded back around the coffee table. Tony leaned against the easy chair and put his arm around Tim, while Abby settled next to Jimmy, leaving Ziva to sit on a side with no furniture to lean on.

"So how are we doing this guys? Are we each playing or are we doing teams?" Jimmy asked as he took out the board. He tried not to blush when Abby smiled at him.

"We don't have an even number, so that makes teams kind of tough," Tim said.

"Yeah, but how long is this game going to last if we have to wait for one person to get all six pie pieces?" Tony replied. "When we played with Sarah that one time, you got five of the pieces in the first nine turns, then spent the rest of the game trying to get a pink piece."

"That was a couple of months ago," Tim said. "I think you've made me watch enough movies since then that I could get one of the questions right."

"OK, McSmartyPants," Tony said. "How about this: you play solo, and we'll do two teams of two."

Abby giggled. "Works for me. Let's see that MIT education in action, Tim."

"So how do we do the teams?" Ziva asked.

"Abby and Jimmy are the two science people, so they should be on different teams," Tim said.

"What about sports?" Tony asked.

"What about sports?" Jimmy replied. "You're the only sports fan in the group, so your team is going to have the best chance at getting that pie piece. Just because I'm named for a baseball player doesn't mean I know sports."

"Too bad there's not an online gaming category," Tony said. Jimmy rolled his eyes and saw Tim do the same.

"I will play with Jimmy," Ziva said.

Tim snorted. "No offense, Ziva, but that's just asking to lose."

"Hey!" Jimmy protested.

"No offense. It's just if Tony and Abby are on the same team, they have science, sports and entertainment. If they're on different teams, that means both teams have entertainment. And if Abby and Jimmy are on different teams, they both have science. So that means Ziva should be with Abby, and Tony and Jimmy should be together."

"Sweet," Abby said. "Girls against guys. Ziva and I are going to kick your ass."

"Hey!" Tim said. "What about me? I'm the only literature expert here."

"And nobody's a history expert," Tony said.

Jimmy laughed. "After working with Dr. Mallard for almost six years, I think I've picked up enough from his stories to do a passable job at history."

"We're never going to get teams that are completely balanced," Abby said.

They wrangled back and forth for another five minutes about the teams before Tony finally pulled a Gibbs and whistled. "Enough," he said. "We're spending more time figuring out how to play the game than we actually would playing it. Let's just move on."

Jimmy frowned. "I don't think I'm quite ready for Twister, yet," he said. If Abby was playing, he wasn't sure he was ever going to be ready for Twister. Well, no, playing Twister with Abby would be great, except it might be just a little too much. Especially if she was still in her weird "I'm-fine.-I'm-completely-cool-with-Tony-and-Tim-as-a-couple.-No,-really,-I'm-fine." mood.

"Who says we have to play anything?" Tim said. "We can just have a drink, chill. After this week, it's nice to just relax."

Abby disappeared into the kitchen and came back a few minutes later with the dog. "I'll sit here and play with Jethro." She plopped down cross-legged on the floor, and Ziva joined her. When Tim and Tony headed for the couch, Jimmy settled down in the chair. It was nice, just sitting here relaxing with friends. Jimmy wasn't sure exactly when the team had crossed the line from friendly co-workers to friends - sometime in the past few weeks since things had gone crazy with Tony and his lungs. Instead of feeling like the odd man out, he felt like another Gibblet. He watched Abby and Ziva play with Jethro, scratching behind his ears, then letting him roll over for a belly rub. Tony and Tim were snuggled together, Tim's long arms wrapped around Tony as the older man settled against his chest. Tim whispered something in his ear, and Tony smiled before reaching a hand back to gently head-slap Tim.

They stayed like that for several minutes, until Jethro finally got tired of all the attention and left Abby and Ziva alone on the floor.

"So what is this Twister?" Ziva asked.

"Abby, why don't you explain it?" Jimmy said.

"OK, so there's this board." She reached over and grabbed the box from the pile. "There are colored spots — red, blue, green and yellow — and you have to put your hand or your foot on them, depending on what you spin." She opened the box and pulled out the plastic sheet, spreading it on the floor. Ziva moved out of the way and sat on the arm of the couch.

"So we spin, and we get right foot, red," Abby said. "Everybody has to put their right foot on a red spot."

"I do not see what is so interesting about this game," Ziva said.

Tony got up and pulled Tim to his feet. "Come on, let's demonstrate. Abby, go ahead and spin."

"Left foot, blue."

Tony put his foot down on one of the blue dots in the middle, while Tim picked one on the edge.

"Right hand, red."

Tim quickly put his hand down on the red dot next to the blue one Tony stood on, so Tony was bent almost double to touch the dot next to it.

"Right foot, green."

Tony stepped his foot to the back corner while Tim put his on the same row as his right hand.

"You guys are hosed if she spins left hand anything other than red," Jimmy said.

Abby smirked. "I don't know, watching a Tim and Tony knot could be pretty hot, right, Ziva?"

Jimmy just rolled his eyes. "Abby, you're as bad as Tony."

"Hey guys, instead of fantasizing about us, could you spin?" Tony said. "This isn't the most comfortable position."

"Anything you say, Tony," Abby said, flicking the spinner. "Oh, this is going to be good. Right hand, green."

Tim beat Tony out to the one free spot between their feet, leaving Tony having to reach his hand between his legs, past Tim's hand and foot to get just the tips of his fingers on the next free spot.

"Hah!" he said. "Did it."

Tim laughed and dropped his head, forehead landing on Tony's ass. That was enough to send the senior agent tumbling to the floor.

"Hey!" he said. "You can't do that!"

"I can't touch your ass?" Tim said as he stood up. "Since when?"

"OK, guys, _way_ too much information," Jimmy said.

"No, it's not," both women countered in unison.

"Ziva, now do you understand how to play?" Abby asked.

"I believe so," she said. "Perhaps I could watch the first game and work the dial?"

"Spinner, Zee," Tony said. "Let's get this game underway. Abby, spikes."

"Yeah, yeah," she said as she started unstrapping leather and metal from various parts of her body. "Good thing I didn't wear a skirt today."

"Good for whom?" Tony asked. "Let's see, Twister with three guys and Abby in a short skirt." He leered at her. Abby and Tim reached over and head-slapped him at the same time.

"I am spinning," Ziva said. "Left hand, yellow."

After just a couple of spins, they were well and truly tangled.

"I don't care if that was green, McTouchy, that is definitely not green-light behavior," Tony said as Tim's arm and shoulder reached between Abby's legs.

Jimmy struggled to keep his balance as one leg was stretched over Tony's hand, while the opposite arm reached under Tim's back.

On the next turn, Abby threaded an arm through Tim's legs and over Jimmy's foot, one pigtail smacking him in the face and knocking his glasses down his nose.

"Ow! Abby, watch it!" He tried to tip his head to get the glasses back in position, but they just slipped further down. "Ziva, can you get my glasses before they fall off?"

She pulled them from his ears and placed them on the coffee table. They weren't there for very long, though, because on the next spin Abby and Tony reached for the same spot and knocked Tim over, taking Jimmy to the floor in the resulting laughter-filled crash.

"OK, next round," Abby said. "I'll spin this time so you can play, Ziva."

 

****

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Abby settled on the floor by the spinner, glad nobody had argued with her about sitting out this game. She kept part of her mind on the game as she flicked the spinner and called out the spots, but she allowed the other part to slip away a bit. She didn't realize how much energy it took to be her usual self — even to flirt with Jimmy a little bit so nobody would realize that her heart was aching at every reminder that Tim and Tony were together. How on earth did Tony manage to keep up a pretense undercover for days at a time? She had a better appreciation for how hard it must have been for him after months of playing a role with Jeanne. And playing Twister, Tim reaching between her legs, her snaking an arm across his belly? Watching Tony drag his leg along Tim's trying to make him fall? It was too much. Abby knew she had big emotions, felt things too strongly at times. That was just who she was. Having to shut it down and pretend like she was completely fine was killing her.

She made it through the game, being careful not to look too closely at which body parts were where on the board. And when Ziva threatened to remove Jimmy's hand with the knife from the Clue game if it got any closer to her chest, she was even able to laugh.

Ziva was the first one out this time, handicapped by being several inches shorter than the men. She almost took Tony out at the same time, but he managed to keep his balance. And then on the next spin, without saying a word, he and Tim took the two spots closest to Jimmy so poor Palmer had to reach all the way to the other side of the board, which didn't work.

"Nice teamwork," she said, forcing a smirk on her face. Fortunately, two turns later, Tim fell when he tried to reach over Tony to get to the other side of the board.

"OK, enough," Tony said. He switched off the overhead light so the room was lit by just a table lamp, the dim light softening everything.

They settled down, Abby replacing all of her chains and collars. She sat on the floor with Jethro, focusing on the dog's fur and playing with him, just the way she had before. She could do that. Anything to not see Tim and Tony snuggled together on the couch.

"Tony, would you play for us?" Ziva asked. "It was wonderful last night, but Tim and I were not able to really pay attention, and Abby and Jimmy did not get a chance hear you."

"Sure, Ziva," he said. "Always happy to entertain."

With Tim and Tony now on opposite sides of the room, Abby was able to lean back against the wall and relax. When Tony started playing, she closed her eyes and listened, allowing the music to wash over her. Music had been her outlet for as long as she could remember. Growing up in an otherwise-silent house, it was a way for her to express herself and bring sound into her life. Tony's jazz wasn't her normal style, but tonight it was just what she needed. The bass line gave her something to hang onto as the notes reached deep inside her. She'd heard a little of his music last night while she was in MTAC, but it had been one sound among many. She opened her eyes and took in the scene. Low lighting, everybody relaxed and content. A small smile gave Ziva a rare peaceful expression, while Jimmy was chilled out enough to dim the energy that usually made him come across as an over-eager puppy. Tim was just gazing at Tony, eyes locked on his. And as Abby listened, she could tell Tony was playing to her- to Timmy. She sighed. He wasn't her Timmy anymore, and as she saw the intensity and love that shone from his eyes, she knew he never would be again. She swallowed hard and closed her eyes, afraid that if she kept them open, she wouldn't be able to keep in the tears that threatened to fall. Abby ran her fingers through Jethro's fur, focusing on the warmth and texture. If she could just hone in on that little piece of reality, she could make it through until they hit a break and she could leave. After a while, Tony stopped playing, and the group shifted around again. When Tim went to refill his wine glass, Abby saw her chance.

"Guys, it's been great, but the nuns are expecting me at early Mass tomorrow, so I've got to go," she said. She gathered up her stuff and was out the door before Tim could even make it back from the kitchen. As she got in her car, she forced herself to keep the tears back long enough to drive away, so Timmy and Tony didn't come outside and see her sitting there bawling her eyes out.

 

****

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

When Tim walked back into the living room with his glass of wine, Abby was already gone and Jimmy and Ziva were making noises about leaving. Within 15 minutes, it was just Tony, he, and Jethro.

"I walk out to the kitchen for three minutes, and the place empties out," he said."Was it something I did?"

Tony shook his head, then rolled his neck around until it cracked. "Abby was out of here like a bat out of hell, no pun intended, as soon as she had her chance. I think she couldn't take it any more."

Tim set his glass down and faced his partner. "I feel horrible about not telling her until today," he admitted. "I'm sorry you had to do it. I had every intention..."

Tony leaned in so their foreheads were just touching. "It had to be me," he said, his breath warm on Tim's face. "I needed her to know that this, us, is not a fling — not just another one of my short-term relationship disasters. You — you're designed for forever. If Abby had been willing to do forever six years ago, we wouldn't be here. Because you two would have been married with little goth geeklets running around, before I ever realized I might have a chance with you — or even wanted a chance with you." He pulled back and grabbed Tim's hand. Tim followed him to the couch. "You could have said this was forever, and she would have known you meant it. You always mean it. But she needed to know I mean it, too."

Tim nodded. "She has to now. God, Tony, when I heard what you told her, it blew my mind. I know we've talked about this and us and forever before. And you said last week if you'd had to pick between being with me and having Gibbs' approval, you'd pick me. But hearing what you told her, knowing you were saying it not _because_ it would break her heart but _despite_ that? If I wasn't already stupid with love for you, that would have done it. I've been in love once before, with Abby, and I've been close a few other times — even if one of them was you hiding behind an online avatar. I've even fooled myself into thinking some of them felt the same way, but this is the first time I've ever been certain the person I love loves me back just as much." He pulled Tony close and whispered in his ear. "If we go in Monday and my stuff is all boxed up on my desk to take to the sub-basement, I'll smile as I'm going, because I know you'll be here that night. And if I have to choose between days sitting at the desk next to you or nights lying in bed with you, nights win every time."


	51. Chapter 50

Monday morning, Ducky was at NCIS before sunrise. He finished preparing Midshipman Murchinson's body for the funeral home and left the paperwork on his desk for Mr. Palmer to handle when he arrived. That completed, the medical examiner faced the next item on his list. It wasn't strictly his responsibility to enlighten Abigail about the change in Anthony and Timothy's relationship, but as she had not yet figured it out, he thought perhaps he was the best person to undertake the difficult task.

He straightened up and headed for his destination. Fortunately, his quarry was as much of an early bird as he was.

When he reached the lab, it was the music that alerted him that she already knew. Abigail always played her music rather loudly, but this was far louder than he had ever heard it before. In fact, the last time he had heard noise this loud was several years ago in the Maldives... But now was not the time to be distracted by a trip down memory lane.

He looked inside to see his young friend at her desk, pigtails looking a bit less exuberant than normal. She didn't look up when he walked in, nor did he expect her to, as she could not possibly have heard him approach.

"Good morning, my dear Abigail." He stood directly in front of her before she noticed him. And at the sight of her expressionless face, Ducky sighed, knowing he should have spoken sooner, even if it had been construed as meddling. He walked over and turned her music off so he could hear, then punched in the code to lock the sliding door so their chat would remain confidential and undisturbed. He rolled a chair over and sat next to Abigail.

"My dear, I am sorry," he said. "I see you have learned about Anthony and Timothy."

She nodded, but said nothing. That worried him most. Still, he held his tongue. Abigail was not Jethro, who would not talk when life was bothering him unless forced to do so. Whereas, she talked more than anybody on the team, except perhaps Anthony. It would just be a matter of time. He gently rubbed her shoulder, wanting to give some measure of comfort and support to the young team member with whom he had worked the longest. Not as long as Jethro, certainly, but Jethro was more a friend — perhaps even an honorary nephew - to him. Of the younger generation — the ones he thought of as his honorary grandchildren — Abigail was the oldest. Still, in some ways, she was the baby of the family. As he had told Timothy some weeks earlier, they were the innocents in the group — he, Abby, and young Jimmy. In Timothy's case, his innocence was tempered by his experiences in the field and, more recently, in helping Anthony battle the demons that had long plagued the senior agent. Jimmy would lose his in much the same way — through repeated exposure to the grievous injury man can inflict upon his fellow humans. Yet while Abigail had been at NCIS far longer and had seen much in the way of horrific crimes — even knew much about the demons her own teammates had faced — she was perhaps far enough removed from it in her tidy lab that it had never dimmed her joy for life or tarnished her heart. Unlike Ziva, who had been forced to lose her innocence too early at the hands of one of the few men Ducky had ever wanted to personally escort through an autopsy — much as he had done his monsterous son — Abigail retained that childlike faith that good would always triumph and justice would trump all. Just as Ziva was the youngest in age, yet the oldest in experience, Abigail was quite the opposite. Ducky rather thought this experience would be a wake-up call for her: the first realization that things often don't work out the way we plan.

"I screwed up, Ducky, and I'm afraid I'm going to do it again if I don't get my head around this." Her voice was soft, quite unlike the normal Abigail.

"How so?"

He listened as his gentle inquiry triggered all the words he had come to expect from Abigail, the hundreds and thousands of syllables all adding up to a single epiphany: "And now I don't want to do anything that would send Tim to CyberCrimes, but I don't know if I can just act like everything's fine."

He nodded, and pulled her in for a hug. "My dear, I wish I had some easy answer for you. Watching the one you love choose another is perhaps one of the most painful experiences we can endure, and it is perhaps doubly so to admit that their new love is a better match than you could hope to be." He sighed, and Abigail's eyes widened.

"You, too, Duckman? Is that why you never married?"

Ducky nodded. "It was a case of what I thought at the time was 'right person, wrong time.' With the years came greater wisdom, and I have realized that had I truly been the right person for her, the time would not have mattered. I wish I could say that takes away the pain, but all it can do is mitigate the hurt we feel with the knowledge that we are walking the path we now are on for a reason. And as I have seen Jethro look for a replacement for Shannon over the years, I have come to realize that I would far prefer to have nobody in my life than to be tied to the wrong person."

"You don't have nobody, Ducky. You have us!" Abby squeezed him in one of her overpowering hugs. After a minute, she softened her grip and buried her face in his shoulder. He could just make out her muffled voice as she said, "So how do I get past it?"

Ducky pulled away and tipped her chin up so they were eye-to-eye. "You go out there today and do your job. It won't feel normal today, nor perhaps for several days. And if you ever need to talk, to have a space where you can allow yourself to experience these feelings without worrying that Jethro or Timothy or Anthony will appear, my teapot is always ready to provide comfort." He bent in and kissed her on the cheek. "I don't believe anybody expects you to be your usual self right away. As long as you and the boys can work together, Jethro will understand if it takes a few weeks for everybody to return to normal. But the old normal will not be the new normal. It likely will be something quite different."

She pulled away. "Thanks, Ducky," she said. "Oh, I need to get ready — Sacks and Fornell will be here any minute."

Ducky nodded. "Quite all right, my dear. Once the team has tied up all the loose ends on this horrific case, perhaps you and I can go out for lunch. My treat." He was pleased to see a genuine smile, the first one of the morning, light up Abigail's face.

 

****

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Gibbs arrived at the bullpen just as Fornell and Sacks were exiting the elevator. The rest of the team was plowing through the piles of paperwork a major case like this generated. His lips twitched a bit at the thought of being able to hand it all over to the FBI.

"Gibbs," Fornell said.

"Tobias. Hang on." He called Abby to come up to the bullpen. Ducky had alerted him earlier that Abby knew about Tony and McGee but seemed to be handling it OK. However, he wanted to judge for himself.

"Hey, Gibbs," she said when she bounced into the bullpen a few minutes later. "I've got good stuff." The team crowded around, Fornell and Sacks just slightly apart.

"You always have good stuff, Abby," Tony said. "Is it enough to nail these dirtbags?

"You doubt me? Please!" She mock-pouted. "I'm hurt. Of course, I came up with enough. Ringpolle was so careful about erasing any links between the abduction sites and his home base that he didn't bother to be as careful with home base itself. It was a veritable water park of interesting fluids. I've got them all running now. With all the DNA databases available, we should hopefully be able to match quite a few to clients of Ringpolle, and then you guys can nail them, too."

Gibbs gave her a small smile. "Not us, Abbs. Fornell and Sacks are handling this. We got our killer."

"And the Bureau appreciates all your hard work on this case, Jethro. I hate to admit it, but we might never have uncovered the true extent of this case without you and your team."

Tony turned to stare at Fornell. "Toby! You're actually thanking us? In public? Usually you just tell Gibbs in the elevator where nobody can actually hear you. Abby, did we get that on tape?"

Before she could reply, Gibbs glared at him. "McGee."

"On it, Boss," Tim said, reaching over to head-slap him.

Tony looked over to see Tim smirking at him. "Great, Boss. Give him ideas."

"Deserved it, DiNozzo," Gibbs said. He'd kept an eye on Abby throughout the entire exchange, and she seemed all right. Still, when he dismissed her, he could feel the mood in the room relax just a bit.

It was like that the next few days. When they were all together, there was an undercurrent of tension, as if none of them were quite sure where to step for fear of treading on someone else's toes. It didn't improve until that Friday when they caught a case with more technology involved than Gibbs could ever hope to understand, no matter how slowly McGee and Abby explained it to him. Until then he'd avoided sending Tim down to the lab for extended periods of time. Second B or not, he couldn't justify making it any tougher on them when he could tell all three were trying so hard to work it out on their own. He could afford to give them space, so he did. Until they had a dead lance corporal with more electronics than a Radio Shack and suspicious activity in his bank account.

"McGee, get with Abby and don't come back until you crack those codes."

"On it, Boss."

 

****

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Three weeks later, Tim got off the phone when Ziva texted him to say that she and Tony were on their way back from a lunch run. He had just arranged Saturday delivery for the piano he had bought as a surprise for Tony. Gibbs would be there to help move furniture, and Jimmy was going to be on hand in case the moving crew knocked it out of tune while they brought it into the house. But Ziva and Ducky had plans that day, so he needed Abby's help to get Tony out of the house.

Last month when he'd walked in to find Tony telling Abby about them, only to see Abby sobbing into Tony's arms, he didn't think they would ever get back to a comfortable friendship. He'd spent most of the first week hyper-aware of everything he and Tony said and did at the Navy Yard, not wanting to hurt his best friend any more than necessary. But also not wanting to make Gibbs think they couldn't work together effectively any more. Looking back, he realized the end of that week was when things started to settle down. Gibbs had sent him down to the lab to work with Abby on cracking the encryptions on a bunch of computers. He and Abby had been at it for about 12 hours when he realized they had just reverted back to old habits: teasing one another and sharing the Caf-Pows Gibbs would bring. By the time they finally cracked the codes — and the case — Sunday afternoon, the long hours, little sleep, and huge amounts of caffeine seemed to have carried them through the worst of it. Tony had stopped down a couple of times to make them sleep and eat, and the second time, Abby had just waved him off and kept typing.

"I'm good, Tony. You guys take a nap — futon's under the desk. I'll sleep when you're done."

"You sure, Abbs?" Tony just looked at her.

"Go. Sleep. I promise, no surveillance. Timmy, hit him if he snores."

Tim had just nodded, his brain circuits too fried to do anything else.

Tony was still asleep when Tim woke up two hours later to find Abby typing away, sucking down a Caf-Pow. Tim looked at the clock.

"Abby, it's 3 a.m. I'll take over; you need a nap. It's your turn to hit him when he snores."

She just nodded. "Hey, Tim?"

He'd just raised an eyebrow.

"I know I said no surveillance — and I didn't take pictures, but after my last Caf-Pow I took a break and saw you two snuggling. You looked... right. Like you were supposed to fit together." She pulled out her pigtails and took off her collar and bracelets. "I've been thinking a lot about what Tony said last weekend and some advice Ducky gave me, and it helped. And then after you went to sleep, I realized that we were working together like we always do and that hadn't changed. I always thought we worked together so well because we had this past, and maybe we do, but I was a little afraid that I wouldn't be able to still do that — to get lost in the computers and codes and cases because it would hurt too much working with you. And it still does hurt, a little — when there's time to think about it, but even that isn't as bad. This was the first time that seeing you together hasn't made me kick myself for being an idiot and letting one of the best men I know get away. Because you didn't get away... you just didn't end up in the same place as I did. And I can't look at you two and not see that it might be a different place than I imagined you'd end up, but it's the right place for you guys. Yes, it still hurts sometimes, but I know at some point it will stop hurting. And I didn't know that a week ago, and somehow that makes a difference."

Tim didn't know what to say, so he settled for pulling her into a hug and kissing her on the temple. She gave him a small smile, then walked over to the futon and flopped down in front of Tony, her back to him so they were spooning.

Things had gotten easier after that. He and Tony didn't feel like they had to tiptoe, and day by day, Abby seemed to be more comfortable around them. So when Sarah had suggested they host Christmas for his family and the team, they hadn't hesitated. Abby and the rest of the team had jumped at the idea; Gibbs was even bringing Jack along. When it came time to arrange this half of Tony's present, he had brought the others into the plotting. Tony would get it a couple weeks early, but that was fine. The other half of the present would wait for Christmas Eve.

After lunch he headed down to the lab and filled Abby in on the plan. When he first asked her to help, he was glad he had waited until Tony was at Bethesda to bring it up. She had been so excited that after she'd told him what a sweet guy he was loud enough for the entire Navy Yard to hear, she'd hugged him until he began to understand how Tony felt when his asthma kicked in. He wasn't sure how they'd gotten from being afraid to tell her about them to her being their biggest fan, but they had and that was all that mattered.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This story wouldn't be complete without me giving HUGE props to my friend Kyrie, editor extraordinaire and partner in evilocity! She came in about halfway through this tale and through hours of writing, editing and brainstorming has made it immeasurably better. Thanks, Kyrie! I hope you guys have enjoyed this story as much as I've enjoyed telling it. It was my first foray back into fan fiction — fiction of any kind, really — after a long hiatus. There are more stories in the Breathe universe, though the longest (three times this size) is still only up at FF.net. Once novel revisions are done, I'm going to try and move it over.


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